Sometimes I Write
by xBleedingBlackRosex
Summary: the drabbles I've written on Tumblr, all in one place! Lengths and ratings vary. :) Some fluff, some angst, some AUs, some headcanons, you get the picture...
1. Drabble 1: The King of Fashion

**So I've gotten a few requests lately to post my Tumblr drabbles on here, so ta-da! :) Lengths vary, as do ratings, but nothing goes above T. If there's any trigger warnings I'll be sure to add it at the beginning of that drabble. I'm thinking of posting about once a day.**

**Alright, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!**

…

"He's on his way."

Everybody immediately flew into action. Heels clattered down the hallways and papers rustled and keyboards clacked and racks of clothing where wheeled at dangerous speeds. Sam Evans and Quinn Fabray – second assistants to Kurt Hummel, more fondly known as the Blondie Twins – did their best to keep everyone calm and in-line, while at the same time hurrying them along. It was a state of controlled chaos.

An intern opened the door, and in glided the King of Fashion himself – Kurt Hummel.

"Q, I need you to run down and grab me a new coat, this one is too warm," he began, already speaking a mile a minute in one seemingly endless sentence. He removed his sunglasses and handed them off to Quinn, who was scurrying behind him, only wobbling slightly in her five-inch heels as they swept down the hallway towards Kurt's office. "The weather report was obviously completely off this morning, I don't see a cloud in the sky, do you see any, Q?"

"N-No, sir, I don't-"

"Of course you don't. Get me Jacqueline on the line, we need to discuss her article on winter hairstyles, I honestly have no clue what she was thinking when she wrote that but it's certainly not publishable, and where is my mocha?"

"I- um," Quinn stuttered, struggling with the heavy trench-coat Kurt had just tossed back at her.

"Never mind, just go get me a new coat." Kurt waved his hand in a you're-dismissed gesture. Sam was there at the door to open it for him with a nervous smile and nod of greeting. Kurt gave the slightest incline of his head in return.

"Wh-Which one would you like, sir?"

Kurt paused, and turned to pin Quinn with that signature look of his. The one that made people want to curl up on the floor and cry at their own apparent stupidity.

"I'll just- Sorry." She bowed out and quickly scurried to the elevators, pale and shaken and very, very flustered. Just as she reached the lifts, one of them opened and Blaine Anderson stepped out, arms full of folders and coffee. "Oh, Blaine! Thank god you're here, Kurt-"

"I got it, I'm on it," he said calmly, breezing right passed her with a reassuring smile. Sam spotted him coming and gave a not-so-subtle sigh of relief. Blaine gestured with his chin for Sam to leave, and the blond did so with pleasure.

Kurt glanced up from his desk at the new arrival. "Ah, Blaine, _finally_, someone competent has arrived," he said, brushing his already perfectly-styled bangs from his forehead and leaning on his desk with one palm. His eyes roamed over the russet Marc Jacobs sweater Blaine was wearing (borrowed from Kurt's personal collection – the highest honor one could receive), and although he did not comment, Blaine knew he approved from the way his lips thinned a little. "I need Michelle's newest collection, and make sure Ricardo gets my notes and comes to talk to me at eleven sharp to discuss alterations, because they have potential but they're not quite there yet. I need fifteen, twenty blouses from Chanel that can potentially go with those new Jimmy Choos we just got in, and dear lord if you bring me anything with _flowers_on them I will fire you on the spot. And _please _tell me you brought me my-"

"Grande nonfat mocha, extra whip?" Blaine finished for him, his smile never leaving his face as he handed over the coffee cup. "I'll have Sam run those notes over to Ricardo at once, and I have Michelle's collection for you right here." He presented one of the thick folders in his arms, and Kurt took it from him with the faintest hint of a smile. "I can run down to Chanel immediately, or send an intern if you'd prefer, but first, Patrick wants you to look over these, see if any of them are worth expanding upon or if he should scrap it and go with a different angle. Personally, I think they're ingenious, but that's of course for you to decide. Also, Yvonne called – she would like to set up a meeting as early as is convenient for you."

Kurt nodded and accepted the second folder. "Very good. I'll look these over. Tell Yvonne I'll see her at two-thirty; if she's a second late I will not hesitate to rescind her clothing privileges for the rest of the month."

Blaine nodded, scribbling it down in his notebook. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

The editor-in-chief shook his head and sat down at his desk. "That's fine for now."

Blaine gave a final nod and slipped out of the office.

"I don't understand how you do it," Sam groaned, falling into step beside him. "I wouldn't last one _hour i_n your shoes."

"He's not all that bad," Blaine shrugged modestly. Then, at Sam's incredulous expression, he laughed and amended, "Well, alright, he's pretty high-maintenance."

Quinn nearly bowled them over as she burst out of the elevator with two coats in hand.

"Blaine!" she gasped; she'd obviously been running. "Wh-Which one should I-?"

"The wrap, definitely," he answered easily, taking the other one from her. "He's wearing blue today – the purple would clash."

"Thanks," she breathed, hurrying off.

Sam shook his head. "You're a miracle-worker, you know that?" he said, his voice full of wonder. "I bet half of us would be fired by now if it weren't for you. Including myself."

"Oh please," Blaine scoffed. "I'm just doing my job."

…

Kurt Hummel was known as the King of Fashion. As editor-in-chief of the prestigious fashion magazine _Runway_, he was equally feared and revered. He'd started out at the bottom of the food-chain, but had worked his way up from a mere internship to the highest position of power within only a few years. Now, at twenty-seven, he had the fashion world at his feet. There were millions of girls – and boys – that would kill to work under him, despite his terrifying and demanding demeanor.

But it was simpleton Blaine Anderson that had caught his attention.

To this day, Blaine had no idea what Kurt had seen in him. He was not in any way the most fashion-forward person, and he was not a raving fanatic of the magazine itself; he knew full well he was incredibly under-qualified and undeserving of the job. But he'd been desperate for work, so he'd decided he might as well do an interview just on the off chance he got the position.

To his – and everyone else's – immense surprise, however, he _had_.

There'd been a lot of mistakes his first month working as one of Kurt's second assistants; plenty of trial-and-error. But he was nothing if not a fast learner. By the end of his third month, he'd been promoted to first assistant, and Sam had been hired to replace him. Quinn, although she'd been working for Kurt for much longer than Blaine had been, was not sore about it. She insisted that he deserved it.

"Blaine, where are you?"

He frowned at Sam's frantic voice coming over the phone. "Uh, Chanel. Kurt asked some tops. Why?"

"He needs another mocha!" The poor man sounded close to tears. "One of the interns knocked over his cup."

"Oh god," Blaine gasped, quickly grabbing the bags and running out the door. "Did it get on his clothes? _Tell me _it didn't get on his clothes."

"No, but it's all over the floor and he fired the intern and there's three people trying to clean it up but it's on the carpet and he looks like he's about to throw them all out the window and I don't know what to do-"

"Breathe," Blaine reminded, veering to take a brief detour. "I'll be there in a bit. Just try and keep everyone out of his way. And for the love of god, make sure nobody tries to bring him the office coffee."

"Yeah, sure, of course."

Twenty minutes later, Blaine arrived with a steaming new mocha and a bottle of cleaning product.

"What is that?" Kurt snapped, taking the coffee from him.

"It'll get the stain out of the carpet," he explained calmly. "And we can spritz some perfume if the chemical smell is too powerful. In the meantime, might I recommend we contrast the new blouses with the shoes and see what might work well together so that you can be out of the office for a while and let the smell dissipate?"

Kurt studied him. Quinn and Sam held their breaths.

Finally he nodded. "Q, open the window. Sam, clean up that mess. Blaine, come with me. Are they downstairs already?"

Blaine contained his smile. Sam and Quinn threw him nods of thanks as they rushed to do as they'd been told. "Yes, sir. Not a flower in sight."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry?"

"'Sir.' Don't call me 'sir.' It makes me sound old." He stepped into an elevator, and Blaine followed, throwing the girl who'd been about to get in an apologetic glance. She shrugged in understanding. "Just 'Kurt' is fine."

"Very well."

Kurt sniffed, and scrunched up his nose in displeasure. Blaine couldn't help but think it was sort of adorable, like a child being told to eat their vegetables before they could have dessert. "Ugh, what a retched smell. My entire outfit reeks of cold coffee now, thanks to that bimbo intern."

"I'm sure it was an accident," Blaine placated. They reached level four and stepped off. The people rushing about automatically made way for them. Or for Kurt, anyway; Blaine was given berth by association. "Everybody makes mistakes now and then."

"She should have been more careful."

"Perhaps she was just nervous. You _are _rather intimidating, after all, s- Kurt."

Kurt glanced at him as they walked. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes," Blaine confessed, trying to be delicate about it. Kurt was clearly already not in the best of moods. "You- You're extraordinarily talented, and pragmatic, and powerful, and sometimes you aren't exactly approachable. I'm sure you don't mean to, but you scare them a little. Perhaps – and forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn – but perhaps they might be more relaxed if you were slightly more approachable."

"Approachable."

"Yes."

"And how would you suggest I do that? Wear a shirt that says 'Free Hugs' and hand out lollipops?"

Blaine laughed. "No, I don't think that's necessary. Just…show them that you're grateful to have them around. Say 'thank you' every now and then. Maybe give a compliment or two. Try not to fire people for making an simple mistake. Lord knows I made plenty of them when I first started here…"

Kurt nodded thoughtfully for a moment.

Then he grabbed a lavender button-up and held it up to a pare of silver heels. "These. I like these. Get me a black pencil skirt."

Blaine held back a sigh. "Yes, si- Kurt. Right away."

As he turned to leave, he heard Kurt mutter, "Thanks," and glanced back at him with a pleasantly surprised smile. Kurt gave a tiny one in return.

_Progress_.

…

"Alright, spill."

Blaine blinked up at Sam in confusion. "Sorry? Spill what?"

"What's up with Kurt?" the blond pressed, leaning on the edge of his desk. Blaine set down the address book, which he'd been in the middle of updating at Kurt's request. "Something really awesome must have happened."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, like you haven't noticed! He hasn't fired anyone in over a week. Yesterday, he even said 'thank you' to me. _Thank you_, Blaine. He _never_ says that."

"I- I guess he's just learning to be a little more amicable," Blaine shrugged, secretly pleased. He liked to think that he had something to do with Kurt's minor changes. In truth, he'd noticed it too; Kurt smiled at him much more often these days, said 'please' when he asked Blaine to do things for him nearly every time, and even let Quinn leave early last Wednesday because she had a big family dinner to attend.

Sam suddenly straightened, his eyes wide. "Oh god, what if- I just thought- What if he's got a boyfriend?"

Blaine dropped his pen. "A- What?" he spluttered.

"Well, think about it! He's suddenly much less uptight, and nothing loosens a guy up like a nice hot-"

"Oh my god, we are _not _having this conversation," Blaine muttered, leaping to his feet and striding away quickly. The thought of Kurt being intimate with some unknown man make Blaine's stomach queazy. Not that he had any right to be possessive; he and Kurt definitely weren't an item. Kurt had never shown any signs of reciprocating his feelings, and he thought he did a pretty good job of hiding his own. It was just a silly crush. But he couldn't deny that the idea of Kurt dating someone else was painful.

"You know, don't you?" Sam urged teasingly, trailing after him.

"Know what?"

"Who he's dating! You know everything about him. Come on, you can tell me."

"He's not- He's never said anything about-"

"Who is it? Is it someone I'd know? Does he work here?"

"Stop it! I haven't heard anything about Kurt's-"

"Oh my god, is it _you_?" Sam gasped suddenly. "I mean I know you two get along and everything but _seriously_, dude? How could you not tell me-?"

"Sam! Stop!" Blaine hissed, his face bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I am not sleeping with Kurt!"

"How nice to have that clarified."

He froze, then whirled to face the direction the familiar voice had come from. Kurt was striding out of one of the elevators a few feet away. Without glancing over, without even a hint of emotion in his face, he continued, "Come with me, Blaine; if you two have enough free time to discuss my sex life you clearly don't have enough to do. Sam, go help Q recategorize the suits downstairs. Blaine, I need you to sit in on my meeting and take notes."

"Yes, sir."

"Blaine-" he began warningly over his shoulder.

"Kurt," he corrected himself quickly. "Sorry, Kurt."

The editor-in-chief gave a curt nod of approval and continued on towards the conference room. "He's wrong. Just so you know."

"I- Sorry?"

"I'm not sleeping with anyone. I'm assuming that's what Sam thought had changed with me."

"No, no! Well, okay, yes, but it wasn't- I'm sorry, he was just being-" Blaine fumbled for the words, hating that he was still blushing so noticeably. Kurt was studying him with this unreadable expression on his face and Blaine just wanted to crawl into a cave and never come out. "That's good. I mean, no, it's not good that- I just meant- Shit."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "That's the first time I've ever heard you curse, Blaine."

"Sorry," he muttered.

Kurt shook his head. "No, it's fine." He paused outside the conference room, ignoring the fact that the men and women inside immediately flew into a panic the moment they spotted him through the glass. "There's one more thing I'd like you to do for me."

"Yes?" _Good. Work. I can do that._

"Come to dinner at my place tonight. Please."

And without waiting for an answer, he pulled open the door and glided in, leaving Blaine to stare dumbly after him. But they both knew he'd do it. He did anything Kurt asked. The only time Blaine had ever been to Kurt's townhouse, however, had been to drop off something or pick something up. He never stayed longer than five minutes.

_This will be interesting, to say the least…_

…

"Honestly, Q, I don't know what you were thinking," Kurt sighed. Blaine and Quinn were both on his heels as they swept down the hallway, the other employees scattering at the sight of the editor-in-chief.

"Sorry, sir," she practically whimpered, head bowed. Blaine sent her a sympathetic look.

"Don't let it happen again. I do not have the time or the patience. If you think I-"

"Kurt," Blaine murmured warningly under his breath, quietly enough that only the brunet could hear him. "Too much."

Kurt cut himself off with a sulky glance to Blaine. _Alright, fine_, his eyes said. "That'll be all, Q. Drop off those notes with Patrick and then you can go home for the night. I expect you here bright and early in the morning to welcome our guests from Milan, though."

"Yes, of course, sir." She nodded rapidly and scribbled it down in her tiny calendar. She turned to leave.

"Oh, and…Quinn?"

She whirled around, eyes wide in surprise. Her boss had not used her full name ever since she'd started working there at _Runway_. Even Blaine was a little taken aback by the usage. "Yes, sir?"

His gaze flickered down. "Good choice of shoes. They work well with that skirt."

Her jaw literally dropped. "I- _Thank_ you, sir!"

Blaine grinned as she scurried away, a delighted smile on her face and a bit of a skip in her step. "See? You just made her day, Kurt. Was that so hard?"

"The hardest," Kurt sighed over-dramatically, making Blaine laugh. A faint smile flickered across his own lips. "It's getting late. I suppose you can go home, too. I just need to make a couple more appointments and then I'm done for the day. Tell Sam he's free to go as soon as he's done with inventory."

"Would you like me to make those appointments?" Blaine offered. He was usually the one setting up those sorts of things, after all; he probably knew Kurt's schedule better than the King of Fashion himself.

Kurt shook his head. "No, I can manage. I'm not completely incapable, believe it or not." Blaine chuckled again. "I was wondering, though…Are you free on Saturday?"

Blaine blinked up at him stupidly for a moment. _Me? He's asking about _my _schedule? _"Uh, I'm- Yeah. Yes, I'm free. I'm definitely free. Why? Do you need me to be available for something?" This was not the first time he needed to be on-call, after all. Kurt was pretty good about warning Blaine in advance when he would be needed outside of office hours.

"No, this isn't work-related," Kurt clarified. "Just be ready at nine. I'd like to take you to coffee."

"You- Take me to- Oh." It felt like Blaine's brain just short-circuited.

"That's alright, isn't it?"

_Oh my god, is this a date? No, it can't be. Can it? Words. Use your words! _"Yes!" he blurted. Then, more calmly, "I mean. Yes, that's perfectly alright. I- I'll be ready."

Kurt nodded once, and then disappeared into his office, leaving Blaine standing there in the middle of the hallway like a struck-dumb statue. It took a passing designer accidentally bumping his elbow to shake him out of his revere. He cleared his throat and wandered aimlessly in the direction the elevators.

Blaine didn't quite know what they were – him and Kurt. Ever since he'd gone over to Kurt's for dinner the week previous, something seemed to change in their relationship. They were certainly not dating, or boyfriends, but it definitely didn't feel like the traditional boss-assistant dynamic. _He cooked for me, for crying out loud! I didn't even know he _could_cook. Employers don't usually grill chicken and bake a custard pie for their assistants, right? That's not normal. Does that mean he likes me? Or- No way. He's Kurt Hummel. He could have absolutely anyone he wanted. There's no way he'd ever be interested in his first assistant. I'm just- I'm a nobody compared to him. We're from completely different worlds. It's just my imagination. I _want_him to like me so much I'm making myself think he really does. This is pathetic. I should see a therapist._

"But…coffee," he mumbled to himself. _He invited me to coffee. Well, it wasn't much of an invitation, but still._

In the end, his head started to hurt from his ping-pong thought process of _he likes me, he likes me not _and he decided to just wait until Saturday to see what was going on between them.

…

"Hey, Blaine, you coming to my party tonight?" Sam asked, clapping the shorter man on the shoulder cheerfully.

Blaine mock-glared at him; he was carrying Kurt's grande nonfat mocha, and if Sam made him spill it all hell would break loose. Kurt had been at a dinner party the previous night and Blaine knew he was going to have a bit of a hangover this morning. He would need his coffee more than normal. And he was already pretty dependent on it. "Party?"

"My birthday party," Sam clarified, speaking as if to a child. "Remember? I invited you like a month ago! Everyone's gonna be there. It'll be awesome. A nice break from the usual chaos of work. Pretty please?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," Blaine assured with a smile. "Twenty-six, right?"

"Gettin' old, I tell yah," Sam joked. "And hey, no presents, alright? I'm serious. My girl Mercedes got the day off and she's spending all day cooking. That's all the birthday present I need. Just wait till you taste her potato salad, Blaine, it's-"

"Samuel Evans."

They froze. Everyone within hearing distance froze, actually. Kurt was standing in the doorway to his office, hands on his hips, sharp blue eyes pinned on the blond second assistant, who immediately cowered behind Blaine.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Um," Sam said blankly.

"Go home."

His eyes grew wide. "What?" he gasped. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Today's your birthday," Kurt stated, as if that was explanation enough. "This is my present to you. Now go before I change my mind. And don't expect me to be lenient if you come to work tomorrow with a splitting headache; I still expect your top performance."

"Yes, sir!" Sam said enthusiastically. He gave Blaine's arm a squeeze and all but danced back to the lifts. Excited murmuring broke out amongst the workers that had overheard the exchange; this was the first time Kurt had acknowledged one of his employee's birthdays. It was a gesture none of them had ever expected from the sharp-tongued King of Fashion.

Kurt began to massage his temples. "Blaine. Coffee. Now."

"Right away." He hurried forward and placed the mocha in Kurt's awaiting hand, following the brunet into his office obediently and waiting for further instruction. Kurt collapsed into his chair, sipping at the coffee, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn. Blaine couldn't help but speak up. "That was really nice of you, what you did back there for Sam."

"Hmm?" Kurt opened his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Well, he works hard. He deserves a day off."

Blaine bit his lip, unsure if he would be overstepping. "I-…I'm really proud of you, Kurt."

Kurt blinked up at him for an immeasurable amount of time. Just when Blaine began to worry he'd gone too far, though, he smiled. A warm, genuine smile. The kind that made Blaine's stomach flip and his heartbeat race. "Good. I want you to be."

He spun around in his chair to face the window, but he didn't seem to be finished talking, so Blaine waited on the opposite side of the desk. Finally, he spoke again. "I've heard that a lot lately. People are proud of my success in the fashion industry. They're proud of me for my pragmatism, my creativity, my whatever. Nobody has ever been proud of me for my _personality_, though."

Blaine pursed his lips; said nothing.

Kurt turned back around to fix Blaine with such a searching gaze he felt like he was a book that had just been opened without his permission. "Why? Why do you put up with me? Why are you so patient with me? I'm a royal bitch to you most of the time but you just smile and take it."

"Because…" Blaine searched for the right words. But then he realized that the truth, however daring, was the only thing he could provide. So he took a deep breath, gathered up his courage, and said, "Because I like you. And I genuinely think you're an amazing person, and I think your incredible success at such a young age demanded such a strong will and tough exterior that you forgot what it was like to let people get close to you, but I think with a little bit of help you could open yourself up again, and I'd really like to be that person because I've liked you since the moment I met you, and I'm really sorry if this makes it awkward between us because that definitely wasn't my inten-"

His words were cut off when Kurt surged forward out of his seat and pressed his lips firmly against Blaine's, his fingers tangling in Blaine's hair and _oh, okay, maybe he _does_like me then._

…

On Saturday, Kurt's car pulled up outside Blaine's apartment building at nine o'clock sharp; he'd always been a very punctual man. Blaine ran down the stairs – the elevator was broken at the moment – and skidded to a stop just before reaching the doors. He did not want to seem desperate, after all.

"Hi!" he greeted cheerfully as he pulled open the door and slid into the backseat next to Kurt. The brunet was dressed as stylishly as ever, but there was something more simplistic, more toned down about this outfit. It took a second for Blaine to realize that this was a non-work ensemble. For some reason, the idea of him being able to see Kurt in his 'casual' attire brought butterflies to his stomach.

"Hi, yourself," Kurt smiled. Then, to the driver, Jeff, "Momo's, please."

"With pleasure, sir," Jeff smiled. It looked almost like a smirk. But perhaps that was just Blaine's imagination.

"You look really nice," Blaine said. "Well, I mean, you _always _look really nice, but."

Kurt giggled. Actually _giggled_. _Is he trying to kill me or something? I don't think my heart can take this. _"Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself. Is that from our collection?"

"Yeah, it is," he confessed, tugging at his auburn blazer's sleeves. "I hope you don't mind-"

Kurt immediately waved it off. "I gave you free reign, remember? You can wear whatever you'd like. Within reason, of course – there are some things you simply can't pull off."

Blaine laughed. "That's what I have you for, right?"

Kurt smiled. "Right."

…

Momo's turned out to be a café not too far from Kurt's townhouse. It was small, cozy, and very over-priced in Blaine's opinion.

"A grande nonfat mocha, extra whip, a medium drip with cinnamon, and a plate of biscotti," Kurt ordered, the authority in his voice so familiar to Blaine it was actually comforting. It took him a second to realize that Kurt had just ordered his favorite drink for him. And paid for it. "That _is_ your coffee order, right?"

"Uh," Blaine said stupidly. "Yes! That's- yeah. Thank you. You didn't have to pay for me, though. I could have-"

Kurt flicked his wrist in a forget-it gesture. "You can pay next time."

_Next time. There's going to be a next time. He wants to do this again. Oh god, I'm going to throw up._

They found seats at a small table near the back, which was relatively uncrowded.

"I've never done this before," Kurt admitted, sipping his mocha delicately.

Blaine stared at him. "You mean…gotten coffee with someone?"

"Dated," Kurt clarified. The word brought back Blaine's stomach butterflies, which always seemed to be on-call when it came to Kurt.

"That's really surprising," he confessed, smiling a little at the thought of being the first person to do this with him, even if it was something as simple as a coffee date. "I always presumed you'd be swarmed with guys begging you to date them whenever you step outside."

Kurt shrugged. "I mean, I've been asked out before. It's just never felt _right_. The wrong time, or the wrong person." He met Blaine's gaze, and something indescribable passed between them. "What about you?"

Blaine fiddled with his coffee, dumping in an extra packet of sugar just for something to do. "I had a couple boyfriends back in college. Nothing ever too serious. I guess I was just…waiting. Like you. For the right person and the right time." _It's you. It's you and now. Please understand that._

Kurt traced the rim of his coffee cup with the tip of his index finger, and wow, how had Blaine never noticed before how long and thin and graceful his fingers were? He wanted to intertwine them with his own and study the differences of their skin tones. "Look, Blaine. I really- I want this to work. But I'm just not sure…" Kurt sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just…The whole dating-your-boss thing never tends to work out. You're my first assistant; if people find out we're together, they might presume I'm playing favorites or something. You might get attacked and demeaned and I don't want that to happen."

Blaine smiled, though, and reached across the table to take Kurt's hand in his own. No hesitation. No shame. "Kurt, relax. I'm a grown man, I can handle some gossip. There were some pretty bad rumors floating around my high school when I first came out. I'm used to turning a deaf ear when need be. I promise, I won't be offended if you want to keep this under wraps."

"But I don't want to hide you, like you're something I'm ashamed of!" Kurt insisted, squeezing Blaine's hand tightly. "I can't tell you how many times I've _almost _asked you out, but changed my mind last-second because I was scared. Now that I know you like me too, I- I don't want to screw this up. I don't want to run."

Blaine stroked his thumb over Kurt's knuckles soothingly, and could actually see Kurt relaxing a bit. "Okay. No hiding, then. No running. Let's just see what happens, alright?"

Kurt smiled tentatively. "Alright. Yeah, that sounds good."

Blaine kissed the back of his hand. "You're adorable when you're nervous."

"Shut up."

Blaine laughed. After a moment, Kurt did too.

…

At first, nobody noticed the subtle changes between them; the lingering glances, the smiling without any reason, Blaine's humming, Kurt's excessive finger-brushing whenever they handed something to each other. It wasn't until Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek in greeting one morning that anything was mentioned.

"Dude!" Sam whispered, catching Blaine just as he was exiting the bathroom. "How come you didn't tell me about you and Kurt, man?"

"Because it's none of you're business?" Blaine responded, pretending that he wasn't blushing even though the heat in his cheeks was undeniable.

"Well, how long has it been going on?"

"About a week."

"And you two are, like-?"

"Dating, yes. Now drop it." He sent Sam a warning glance and added, "Don't spread it around, alright? We've discussed it, and we both agree we want to keep our personal relationship separate from our work."

"Yeah, no, I totally get it." Sam raised his hands in surrender. But then a sly smile lit up his face. "So I guess Kurt is asking you to do more for him than just run errands now, hmm?"

Blaine pinned him with his most unimpressed frown. "It's exactly comments like that we're trying to avoid, Sam."

"Sorry, sorry. But you gotta admit, the infamous Kurt Hummel dating his _assistant_? That's going to get people talking. And I'm willing to bet my next paycheck not all of it is going to be nice."

Blaine sighed. "No. Probably not. But we'll deal with that when it comes. Until then, please? Don't spread it around?"

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "I got your back, man."

"Thanks."

…

"So, there's been some rumors lately," the reporter said suggestively, in a tone that made Blaine's stomach churn. Kurt just stood there, however, cool as could be, waiting for the inevitable question. Only Blaine noticed the way his eyes darkened from blue to gray, the way they always did when he was secretly upset. "Tell us – what's going on between you and Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes, we're dating, I'm not ashamed of it," Kurt said, shrugging to show it wasn't a big deal. Even though it sort of was. Blaine considered it a big deal because he was with the man he'd been crushing on for months; the press considered it a big deal because it was a scoop, a story. "It doesn't affect our professional life; I still run the magazine, he still manages my schedule and sits in on meetings and everything he usually did. It's just that now I get a good morning kiss before we start the day."

The reporter cooed into her microphone. Blaine was torn between rolling his eyes and laughing.

"And you're not worried about how this might be taken by the media?"

"Not really, no. I don't see why my personal life should be anybody's business but my own. It doesn't matter that Blaine is my assistant. He could be my financial advisor, or my grocery bagger, or my milkman, and it wouldn't make a difference in the world."

"Well, I hope you two are very happy together."

"Thank you."

Blaine slid up beside him as the King of Fashion moved on towards the entranceway. He was attending a runway show he'd played a large part in organizing, and Blaine, as usual, was accompanying him. "I think you handled that very well."

Kurt scoffed, and nudged his shoulder. "Thanks. I just want to get this over with, though."

"Agreed." Blaine had been fielding calls from the media for the past three weeks and he was sick of it. It was like nobody had anything better to do than gossip about Kurt Hummel's love life and the 'scandal' of it being with his first assistant.

Speaking of assistants, Quinn and Sam had really pulled through. They supported their relationship completely, and quickly shot down any of the other workers that tried to ask them about the rumors. They even covered for them when they needed some time alone without the press following them around. Momo's had become their safe haven; somehow, miraculously, the paparazzi had not yet discovered the café, and the shop-owner – who turned out to be a personal friend of Kurt's – swore to keep it that way for as long as possible.

It was not a perfect relationship by any means, but it worked for them. Blaine made sure Kurt wasn't too harsh with his employees (especially the Blondie Twins), and Kurt made sure Blaine wasn't a complete pushover with everyone, which sometimes included himself. And, eventually, the hype died down, and it became old news. Their relationship became a given, a commonly known fact, not a source of gossip. Nobody batted an eye anymore when Kurt brought Blaine to shows as his date, not his assistant. It wasn't even worth a story when the paparazzi finally caught them at Momo's on one of their semi-regular coffee dates.

Their relationship progressed normally after the initial public obsession died out. Blaine ended up moving in with Kurt about a month after their one-year anniversary. They got married – a small, private wedding without any paparazzi involved – after three years. And in their forth year together, they adopted a child.

When they told their daughter Eliza the story of how they met, they no longer looked back on those days of hiding from cameras and fending off intrusive reporters with distain. It was just a phase in their relationship; another memory to never be forgotten. When Sam and Quinn came over they'd reminisce about those early days and laugh about all the intricate escape routes the couple used in order to avoid the media, and about how much better a person Blaine made Kurt, and about how perfect they were for each other, and about how happy they were that they found one another.

And then Kurt and Blaine would kiss, and Eliza would squeal and clap her tiny hands over her eyes and say "Dad! Daddy! Stop it!"

And they'd laugh and tickle her until she was out of breath.

Their relationship wasn't perfect, but they were perfectly imperfect together.

…

**So there's the first one. :) ****_The Devil Wears Prada_**** AU. Probably one of my favorite 'verses, tbh. This was originally split into 4 parts, so I apologize if the time jumps are sometimes a little confusing. Hope you enjoyed!**

**If you have any new drabbles you'd like me to write, feel free to drop it in my ask box on Tumblr (rippleklainebagels). See you tomorrow!**

**~Kisses,**

**Ripple**


	2. Drabble 2: Hold On

**Written for a gifset of Blaine when he got hit by the rock salt slushie showing that Kurt says 'honey' as he falls to the ground.**

…

"Honey!" Kurt gasped, dropping to his knees beside his distraught boyfriend. "What's wrong?"

He knew there was something else, something more than just the slushie. Those cries weren't just from a cold shock; they were from severe, genuine ___pain_. Blaine sounded like he was being ___tortured_. Slushies stung, but they most definitely did not create this level of duress.

Kurt tried to get Blaine to drop his hands from his face, but Blaine just groaned and shrieked and clutched desperately at his eyes.

"Blaine, sweetie, please!" Kurt begged, terrified. He didn't know what to do, how to help. "Tell me what's wrong! Baby please, talk to me…"

Blaine whimpered. It split Kurt's heart in two.

"Kurt…" The two halves turned to ice.

"It hurts…" And shattered into a million pieces.

"Make it stop…" And then crumpled into dust.

"Everything's going to be okay," he murmured brokenly, voice hitching. Because he didn't know if it would be okay or not. He didn't know. "Come on, let's get you to the hospital. We've got to-"

Blaine drew his hands away and tried to open his eyes. A gut-wrenching scream filled the underground parking lot, echoed off the bare walls, tore at Kurt's chest and ears and throat. He felt sick.

Finn and Puck helped get Blaine into the backseat of Kurt's Navigator.

"Drive," Kurt ordered, tossing his keys to his step-brother without even looking at him, eyes locked on his boyfriend's face, which was contorted with pain. He slid into the back with him and cushioned his head in his lap. He didn't care that the slushie remnants were staining his seats, or that neither of them were wearing seat belts, or that their clothing was ruined beyond salvation. All he cared about was Blaine. Seeming him hurt was worse than anything he'd ever experienced before in his entire life. Which was really saying something, considering everything he'd been through.

"Kurt, you've never let anyone drive your-" Finn began.

"___Just get us to the hospital!_" Kurt shouted. The tall boy jumped and scrambled to obey. Puck lunged into the front passenger seat just as the engine roared and they peeled out of the parking lot, burning rubber in their haste. The rest of New Directions hurried to get in their own cars and follow.

Kurt stroked Blaine's hair and face, doing his best to clear away the stickiness, careful to avoid Blaine's eyes, which were squeezed shut. They were swollen and turning red; a red definitely not caused by the food dye.

"You're going to be alright," Kurt breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder his voice would crack and the sobs would escape. He had to be strong. Strong for Blaine. "You're going to be fine, baby. I promise. You're going to be alright. Just- Just hold on for a bit longer, okay? I swear, you'll be alright."

Blaine reached out blindly; Kurt instantly locked their fingers together. "Kurt…" the dark-haired boy whispered. The struggle to hold himself together was evident in his voice. "Kurt, please…Make it stop…F-Fire…My eyes, they-…God, it ___hurts_, Kurt…"

Kurt bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood. Blaine sounded so young, so _scared_. The tears began to spill out of his eyes, and he made no move to brush them away. "I know, baby, I know. Just hold on. We're almost there."

He bent down and pressed quivering lips to Blaine's forehead.

___Just hold on._

…

**Oops angst. Good morning! ;) This is, funnily enough, the first drabble I ever wrote.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	3. Drabble 3: Confession

**Written for a** **gifset of Kurt and Blaine during the "Loveshack" scene.**

…

Kurt knew he'd have to tell Blaine, and the sooner the better.

Besides, Blaine gave him the perfect opening.

"So did you ever figure out who was sending you all those love letters?" he asked, his arms around Kurt's waist, chin resting on Kurt's shoulder as they snuggled up close in Kurt's bed. With Burt and Carole out for the night, the two of them had leapt at the opportunity to have the house to themselves. Sugar's party had ended about an hour ago, Blaine's eye was nearly all better, and they fully intended to spend every second of that night wrapped up in one another like a single entity.

"Oh…Yes," Kurt confessed, the memory burning bright in my mind's eye. He leaned back into Blaine's chest, fingers idly tracing patterns down Blaine's arms. "Wasn't you after all…"

Blaine chuckled and kissed his neck softly. "No, wasn't me. There's nothing secret about my admiration." His smile faded after a moment when Kurt did not laugh. He adjusted them so he could look Kurt in the eye more easily. "Hey. What's up? Did something happen?"

Kurt took a deep breath. ___Just tell him. Just get it over with_. "It was Karofsky."

Blaine tensed. His lips parted, but no words came out. Kurt waited anxiously for his response. ___Please don't be mad. Please don't be upset. _"Blaine? Baby, talk to me…"

The shorter boy slumped back against the headboard and ran a hand through his curls, a surefire sign that he was conflicted – he almost _never_ messed with his hair. "I- Wow…Karofsky? Are you serious? I mean…Wow." He sighed heavily, before turning to gaze down at his boyfriend. "Care to explain?"

Kurt sat up, flipping around so that Blaine was now in _his_ arms. "I don't even know how it happened! I was- I had no idea it was him! And then he came into Breadstix and I thought it was ___you _but then he removed the gorilla head and it ___wasn't _you and it was ___him _and I didn't know what to do! And then we talked and he basically confessed his love for me which was completely unexpected and I felt awful but I obviously had to turn him down because I love you and he just looked so ___crushed _and I don't-"

"Kurt, breathe!"

Kurt gasped. Blaine chuckled and stroked his cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "Babe, relax. Calm down and start over. He confessed his love for you?"

"Basically," Kurt bemoaned. "I mean, I've shown you some of the letters – of course, because I thought it'd make you slip up and confess, but whatever. They were all so…___sweet_! So ___obviously _it ___had _to be you, because who else would send me such adorable little messages? But then he told me how much he looked up to me and how much I've helped him and how he's finally being honest with himself and- Oh god, Blaine, I've just completely ruined his progress! He was finally comfortable in his own skin! He was on the road to coming out and I ___rejected _him! I'm a horrible person."

"No," Blaine said firmly. "You're not. You were honest with him, and that's all you needed to be."

Kurt sighed again, though, bringing Blaine still deeper into his embrace until they were practically nondetachable. "He looked so ___sad_, Blaine…I mean, I love you, you know that, and I never once thought of him in- in ___that _sort of way, but…I just wish I could have helped him."

Blaine kissed his forehead. "You truly are the most compassionate person I've ever met," he murmured against his skin. He tilted Kurt's head up with a finger under his chin so that he could press another kiss to his lips. "I love that about you…I love everything about you, but that in particular."

Kurt giggled, brushing the tips of their noses together in an eskimo kiss. "And ___you _are truly the cheesiest person I've ever met."

He laughed then, and kissed Blaine's pout away.

"And I love that about you…"

…

**Don't mind me I'll just be over here with all my fluffy Klaine feels.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	4. Drabble 4: Territorial

**Written for a gifset of Blaine joining ND and Kurt being all adorably territorial.**

…

"Let's welcome our newest member!" Mr. Shuester urged excitedly from the front of the room. Kurt, who had been deep in discussion with Mercedes on how best to get the tomato sauce out of his vest, glanced over in mild interest. He had not expected anybody to audition after the fiasco in the lunch room early that day.

Who he spotted wandering into the room, however, made his eyes widen and his jaw drop.

"This is Blaine Anderson!" Mr. Shuester introduced, clapping a hand down on the boy's shoulder. "He transferred here just yesterday, so I hope you guys help him settle in and make him feel at home."

Blaine caught Kurt's eye and grinned. Kurt just gaped down at him.

___What are you _doing___, Blaine?_

"He's cute," Mercedes giggled under her breath.

A sudden territorial instinct kicked in. Blaine was ___his_. Had been for over a month now. And as soon as he figured out what on Earth he was doing ___here_, at McKinley, Kurt was going to make it clear to everybody that Blaine was just as capital-G gay as he was. And very much so ___taken_.

He leaned over to mutter in her ear, eyes never leaving his boyfriend. "He's **_mine_**."

…

**What cutie patooties. Kurt, ssh, it's okay, Blaine's all yours.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	5. Drabble 5: Birthmark

**Written for a picture of Darren's adorable little birthmark on the back of his neck.**

…

Kurt discovered the mark early on in their relationship.

They were snuggled up on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Blaine wrapped in Kurt's arms as they watched a rerun of ___Project Runway _at Kurt's house. Kurt began to press tiny kisses to Blaine's curls, the shell of his ear, making his boyfriend sigh and wiggle happily deeper into Kurt's embrace. Kurt had smiled against his skin, tilting his head as he traveled a little lower, down the back of Blaine's neck. Blaine hummed appreciatively when Kurt hooked a finger on the collar of his shirt and tugged it down to expose a little more skin.

But then Kurt paused.

"Blaine?" he murmured quietly. "What's this?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's my birthmark."

Kurt studied it for a long moment. Blaine finally glanced over his shoulder, reality show long forgotten, and asked, "Is something wrong?" He had never given much thought to the small patch of skin before; it was usually covered up, anyway, and it wasn't like he could see it easily anyway. But now he wondered.

"No, no, of course not," Kurt assured, eyes still fixated on the top of Blaine's spine. "It's just…really cute."

Blaine frowned in confusion and amusement. "Cute?"

"Yeah." Kurt shrugged, leaning forward to press his lips gently to the birthmark. Blaine inhaled deeply at the sensation.

"It's a flaw," he pointed out.

Kurt nodded. "Maybe that's ___why _I like it. Everything else about you is so perfect…It's nice to know you've got something like this…"

Blaine chuckled. "So you like my birthmark because it makes me imperfect?"

Kurt grinned and kissed the mark once more. "Exactly. You're perfectly imperfect."

…

**Two today because they're both so short. Huzzah!**

**I'm jealous of Darren's birthmark. Mine looks like a huge smudge of dirt on my waist. Grumblepants.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	6. Drabble 6: Idol

**Written for a photoset of starstruck!Kurt and Darren (Blaine) out on the street with his fans.**

_…_

___Oh my god, it's him._

Blaine Anderson was standing there, no more than twenty feet away, signing autographs and smiling around at his fans as if he had nothing better to do.

"Go talk to him!" Rachel urged.

Kurt blanched. "I- I can't!" he insisted, resisting as Rachel began to tug on his arm. "No, Rachel, really! He's- He's busy, I'm sure he doesn't want to talk to me, I'm fine just admiring him from afar, really-"

"Kurt Hummel," Rachel snapped. "That is your rolemodel and inspiration standing over there. This may be your only chance!"

Kurt sighed and whirled around to block Rachel's path. "Look, thank you, but if I tried to talk to him I'd end up making a complete fool of myself and spend the rest of the month wallowing in a state of utter melancholy. I can't afford that right now."

She huffed impatiently. "You're crazy, Kurt."

"Just drop it, okay?" Kurt pled, adjusting the strap of his bag and walking backwards, away from her. "I'll see you back at the apartment, okay? I've got to go- oh!" He ran into something – some___one _– and quickly stumbled to a stop.

"Oh, man, sorry about that," a smooth voice said, strong hands reaching out to steady him. Kurt glanced up at the man. "Wasn't looking where I was going. You alright?"

Kurt's jaw dropped.

Blaine Anderson – ___the _Blaine Anderson – was standing there, smiling brightly at him, his hands still on Kurt's shoulders. He was so close Kurt could smell his aftershave.

"I," Kurt finally squeaked. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Hi!"

The musician chuckled. "Hey," he greeted easily. "You okay?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm- I'm great, actually." Kurt laughed a little at himself. "Sorry, that was my fault. Apparently walking backwards isn't one of my many talents. Shocking, I know." _Oh my god, what am I even saying?_

Blaine threw his head back and laughed. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure you walk forwards very gracefully."

Kurt blushed.

"Hi Blaine!" Rachel greeted, suddenly right beside Kurt and holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Rachel Berry, this is Kurt Hummel. He's a huge fan of yours. Not to say I'm not, but I must say my musical tastes gravitate more towards-"

"Rachel," Kurt hissed, mortified.

Blaine took it in his stride. "Pleasure to meet you both!" He shook Rachel's proffered hand, and then Kurt's. (Kurt memorized the sensation, knowing it would likely be his one and only chance to shake hands with his idol.) Blaine's gaze kept flickering over Kurt's face, an unreadable expression crossing over his own. "Hey…Are you coming to my show tonight, by any chance?"

"You have a show tonight?" Kurt asked, frowning. "Oh my god, why didn't I hear about it?"

Blaine shrugged. "It's pretty low-key; just a local club. I'm doing it as a favor for a friend. You should- You should come check it out, if you have time…"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but Rachel jumped in. "I can't, unfortunately – far too busy with schoolwork – but Kurt's free!" She flashed her friend an innocent smile when he glared; she knew full well he had to go to work early the next morning, and still had a couple designs to finish up. "I'm sure he'd love to go. Where is it?"

Blaine gave them directions, and Kurt promised to be there. He did not miss the way Blaine's face seemed to light up, but he assured himself it was probably just his overactive imagination. Wishful thinking.

"Blaine." A man in a suit appeared at the musician's elbow. "Come on, the car's waiting."

"Alright." Blaine flashed Kurt and Rachel a final smile, waved, said "hope you see you again soon!" and departed.

Kurt exhaled shakily. "Rachel."

"Yes?"

"I have to go to that concert."

She grinned in accomplishment. "I couldn't agree more."

…

"Hey, you made it!"

Kurt jumped a little at the voice beside him. Blaine was there, grinning like he was genuinely happy to see Kurt. Or perhaps that was more hopeful thinking on Kurt's part. Either way, he responded with a bright smile of his own. "Yeah, of course I did! I said I would, didn't I?" ___Never mind the fact I have to be at work in eight hours._

"Yeah, but- I mean, it was pretty last minute. I wouldn't have blamed you if you couldn't come," Blaine shrugged, and he actually seemed a little flustered. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "You, um, you look really nice."

Kurt blushed, and glanced down at his outfit, which he'd spent the entire afternoon planning. "Thank you." Kurt examined Blaine's – the same faded dark-wash jeans he'd been wearing earlier, a purple v-neck shirt and and light jacket. "So do you."

Blaine laughed a little. "Nah, not nearly as good as you. Is this Jimmy Choo?" He reached out to finger Kurt's scarf, and his knuckles briefly brushed against Kurt's jaw. He instantly forgot how to breathe, much less speak.

"Y-Yeah," Kurt stuttered. "You- I'm impressed. Not many people could notice that by sight."

"Well, I'm definitely no expert, but I will confess to having a ___Vogue _collection at home," Blaine admitted, grinning abashedly. Kurt raised an eyebrow in approval. ___God, could he __be____ any more perfect? Should I tell him where I work? No, that'd be bragging._

A man in a suit – the same one from before – appeared at Blaine's side. "Blaine, come on, it's time to get ready," he mumbled, flashing Kurt a glance and giving a polite nod when he recognized him. Kurt smiled back nervously.

"Okay. I'll be there in a sec." Blaine turned back to Kurt, and this time there was no way Kurt could mistake the nervousness in Blaine's body language. "So, I- I don't know if you're going to be staying for the whole thing, and I totally get it if you're busy, but if- if you'd like, maybe we could go get some coffee afterwards?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. ___Yes_, he wanted to blurt. ___I'd love to_. But the words got stuck in his throat, held back by his logical side; it'd be late by the time the performance ended, and he'd only be able to get a few hours of sleep as it is. If he went into work without any rest his boss would surely notice. He bit his lip indecisively. "Give me your phone," he finally said, shocked by his own daring.

Blaine blinked at him, startled, before obediently handing over his cell. "I have to go to work early in the morning," Kurt explained as he programmed his number in, resisting the urge to add a heart after his name. "But maybe if you're not busy tomorrow, we could get coffee then? I have my lunch break at noon."

Kurt returned Blaine's phone, and the musician pocketed it, beaming like he'd just won the lottery. "I'd like that, yeah."

"Blaine!" the man in the suit snapped, reappearing. "Hurry up!"

"I'll call you!" Blaine promised, before hurrying off through the crowd.

Kurt's heart was thudding in his chest. ___He's going to call. Blaine Anderson has my number and is going to call me. I'm going to go get coffee with him. Is this a date? What is this?_

___Oh god, what am I going to wear?_

…

Blaine ended up calling the next morning just as Kurt was leaving his meeting. He quickly ducked into the bathroom and shooed his coworker out, who rolled his eyes but complied. They agreed to meet at Lulu's, a coffeehouse a couple blocks down from Kurt's work, and when the phone call ended Kurt immediately saved the number into his contacts. He then spent the rest of the morning switching between 'oh-my-god-I'm-meeting-a-world-famous-musician-for-coffee' freaking out and 'oh-my-god-I'm-meeting-an-attractive-man-for-coffee' excitement. He tried to remain calm; Blaine was just another guy.

___A guy who's super cute and talented and famous and actually calls when he says he will. No big deal._

He managed to get off a few minutes early for his break and speed-walked to Lulu's, the crisp autumn air keeping him from breaking out in a sweat, which would have destroyed the hair he'd spent half an hour styling that morning. By some stroke of luck, Blaine was just getting out of a taxi cab when he arrived.

"Hey!" he greeted, a little breathlessly.

"Kurt, hi!" Blaine smiled. Kurt loved the way his face always seemed to light up like a Christmas tree. "What good timing. Shall we?" He opened the door for Kurt and gestured for him to go in first. ___What a gentleman. _They got their coffee – Blaine insisted on paying – and grabbed a table near the back.

"So, did you get to work on time after all?" Blaine asked with an easy smile.

___Does this guy ever stop smiling? _"Yeah, I did," he answered. "It was pretty gruesome, though. I'm not a morning person by any means."

"I know how that goes," nodded Blaine, taking a sip of his cinnamon-tinted coffee. "I can't function without a cup of coffee first. My P.A. knows not to bother me before I have some caffeine in me. Honestly, I don't know how he puts up with me some days…"

Kurt laughed. "I'm sure you're a joy to work for."

"Speaking of working, what exactly do you do? You seem so young to be-" Blaine flushed. "I mean, not that you shouldn't be, or anything, I didn't- Sorry, that came out wrong."

Kurt pursed his lips to keep from giggling at how adorable Blaine was. All those interviews Kurt had seen of him could never compare. Blaine was beyond endearing in person. "Relax, Blaine, I'm not offended. I'm interning at ___Vogue_, actually. My original plans for college sort of…fell through, but as far as Plan Bs go, this is pretty nice."

"I'll say! You seriously work at ___Vogue_? That's so amazing!" Blaine seemed genuinely impressed, and Kurt couldn't help but sit up a little in pride. He took a long sip of his mocha. "So you want to go into fashion design?"

"It's something I've always been interested in," Kurt confessed. "But my dream had always been professional theatre. Acting and singing. But, I mean, I certainly wouldn't be ___disappointed _if fashion turns out to be my path."

"Well, maybe one day I'll be scrambling to wear one of your coveted designs."

Kurt scoffed, trying to will his blush away. "Oh please. You have no idea if I'm even any good!"

Blaine leaned forward, making sure Kurt was meeting his gaze as he said, "Trust me, if you can score an internship with ___Vogue_, you're good." He sat back then, unaware that he'd just completely thrown Kurt's heartbeat into a staccato. "So theatre, huh? Did you do any singing in high school?"

___Breathe. Come on, Kurt. Words. Use them. _"I- Yeah. Yes, I was in Glee club. We won Nationals two years in a row."

Something like recognition crossed over Blaine's face. "Wait. You were on New Directions? From Ohio?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "You- How did you-?"

"You guys defeated us my senior year at Regionals," Blaine said, beginning to laugh and shake his head. "Three years ago. The Warblers?"

"Oh my god, you were-? That was-?" Kurt fumbled for words. ___No way. There's no way! Three years ago I was a junior. I defeated him as a junior? Oh god, he must hate me now. _"I'm so sorry!"

"Why? Don't be sorry. You guys were incredible!" Blaine reassured.

"Yeah but- I mean, you're the one that's a professional singer now," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine placed a hand over Kurt's soothingly, not knowing that the gesture actually just made Kurt's breathing even more erratic. "That doesn't mean you guys didn't deserve to win. The Warblers may have had good vocals, but our choreography was basically nonexistent."

There was suddenly a commotion near the front of the coffee shop. Kurt glanced over his shoulder. There were men and women and cameras and microphones, attempting to get inside and shouting Blaine's name as the baristas shooed them back.

"Crap," Blaine muttered. Kurt turned back to him. He threw back the last dregs of his coffee and stood. "Kurt, I'm really sorry. I should go. I didn't- I wish this didn't-" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disturbing his curls. "Um, if- if you'd like, I'd really like to see you again sometime."

Kurt beamed up at him. "You have my number."

Blaine's returning smile lit up the whole room, and with a tiny, awkward wave, he hurried off, leaving Kurt to grin into his coffee cup like a lunatic. He didn't care if he was late getting back to work. Blaine Anderson wanted to see him again. He could live solely upon that knowledge for the rest of the week.

Or at least until he next saw Blaine.

…

The next day, he awoke to his phone going off, and he answered groggily to a very flustered Rachel, who was going on and on about some magazine article.

"Rach, hon, calm down," he tried to soothe, rubbing at his eyes and checking his alarm clock. It was half an hour before he had to get out of bed. "What's going on? What about coffee?" ___That sounds like a good idea…_He debated if he was willing to drag himself to the kitchen for a cup. He attempted to push back his blankets and ended up just rolling over. ___Apparently not._

Rachel huffed impatiently. "I was on my way to class this morning and I walked by a newspaper stand and there was an article about Blaine Anderson in ___People _so of course I got one for you but then I was reading it and it's ___about you_."

Kurt frowned. He was suddenly much more awake. "Wait, what?"

"That coffee date you two had yesterday? There's pictures. Everyone wants to know who you are, if you're his boyfriend. And I'm willing to bet this isn't the only article…"

Kurt bolted up in bed, the sleepy haze fading as he grabbed his computer and quickly opened up the browser. His jaw dropped when he saw the search results. "Oh god…Rachel, I'm gonna have to call you back."

___Blaine Anderson, 21-year-old Grammy Award-winning musician, was spotted yesterday in an intimate coffee shop with an unknown young man. The laughter, the hand-holding, the lovestruck gazes were more than enough to pique our interest. Who is this mystery man that's captured Anderson's attentions?_

Kurt stopped reading and took a deep, uneven breath. The pictures were all of his back, focusing mainly on Blaine, but it was still undeniably him. There was even one of when Blaine had covered his hand with his own that he was tempted to print out before deciding that was just creepy.

His phone began to ring again, and he swept his thumb over the screen to answer, eyes still fixated on his computer. "Rach, relax, okay? They don't have my name."

"Um, Kurt?"

He gasped and glanced at his phone, which displayed Blaine's name. ___Oops_. "Oh, Blaine, hi! Sorry, I thought- Hello."

"Hey," Blaine greeted, laughing a little nervously. "I'm guessing this means you saw the, uh, the pictures?"

"And articles, yeah," Kurt confirmed. He bit his lip. ___Is he mad? Does he not want to see me again? Did I manage to screw everything up so soon? I shouldn't have suggested getting coffee. It was too public._

Blaine was quiet for a moment. "I'm so sorry, Kurt," he finally blurted. And he really did sound it. "This is all my fault. I never intended- I promise I'll deal with this. I'm not gonna let the press hound you."

Kurt felt his heart swell. ___He's so…noble! _"Blaine, I- It's okay," he tried to assure, not sure how to phrase it. "I'm fine with it if- if you are. I mean, if you'd rather not see me again-"

"Oh god, no!" Blaine gasped. "No, I do! I want to see you again. Definitely. That's not what I meant. I just- The paparazzi can get pretty nosy, and I don't want you to be attacked with reporters and cameras everywhere you go, and we've only just met, I didn't think you'd want to go through that for me, so…"

Kurt actually laughed at that, before checking himself. "Sorry. I can assure you I'd be more than willing to 'go through that' for you, if it means getting to see you again." He was taken aback at his own confidence, and hoped it lasted.

When Blaine spoke again, his smile was evident in his voice. "Great. Awesome! That's- Yeah, okay, so I guess now would be a good time to ask if you're free for dinner tomorrow? I'll try and make sure there's no reporters, but it's never a promise…"

Kurt grinned like a lovestruck teenage girl, resisting the powerful urge to do a little dance at the side of his bed. "I'd love to."

They talked for a little bit more, discussing what they'd tell the press – they agreed to stick with 'just friends' in order to keep the media's interest at a minimum – before Blaine was forced to hang up, promising to call later that evening, a promise Kurt was confident Blaine would keep.

Rachel called him again as he was on his way to work. "So you guys talked? You're still going to go out?"

"Yes, of course," Kurt said, almost offended. "I'm not a coward; I'm not going to run and hide because a few people with cameras want to get all up in our business. Blaine's been living with this kind of attention for a while now, I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Uh-huh," Rachel muttered, clearly unconvinced.

And, as Kurt discovered the next night, she had every reason to be.

…

Kurt always wondered what it would be like to be famous. He pictured himself as a Broadway star, or perhaps a top-of-the-line designer, with everybody scrabbling to get his picture and ask him questions.

It had all just been a passing fantasy, of course, something nice to dream about. He didn't actually expect it to ever happen.

He got a taste of what it was like when he went out to dinner with Blaine, though.

"Hey," Blaine greeted brightly when Kurt answered the door.

"Hi!" Kurt breathed, taking a moment to commit the sight of Blaine Anderson in his entranceway to memory. "One sec, just let me get my keys."

Just as he was grabbing them from the countertop, a door banged open and Rachel's carrying voice reached them. "Oh my god is he here? Kurt, wait, I promised to get his autograph for-"

"___Goodbye_, Rachel," Kurt said firmly, ushering Blaine out and shutting the door behind them just as Rachel emerged in a bathrobe with a camera in her hands. "Sorry about that. She- I mean, we're both kind of-" ___We're both huge fans of your music. Is that weird?_

Blaine laughed. He probably guessed what Kurt hadn't said. "Don't worry about it." He took Kurt's hand easily, as if it was just the natural thing for him to do, and Kurt blushed, trying to control his smile. ___I'm holding his hand. I'm holding Blaine Anderson's hand. Whatever you do, don't squeal. _"So, where are we going?"

"There's this great little Italian place I know," said Blaine, opening the front door to the apartment complex for him and allowing him to go out ahead of him. ___Very gentlemanly. Seriously, does this guy have no flaws? _Blaine suddenly paused. "Is- Is that alright? Do you like Italian? If you'd prefer something else we can-"

"Italian is perfect," Kurt assured, grinning. ___Is Blaine…nervous? _After playing sold-out shows all over the world, Blaine seemed like the least likely person to get nervous on a date. ___Is that what this even is? He never actually said the word. Maybe this is just a friendly dinner? Oh god, what _is___this?_

Kurt gasped when Blaine stopped in front of Maria's, a very upscale restaurant he had never even dreamed of eating at. He grabbed Blaine's arm when he reached for the door. "Oh my god, ___here_? Blaine, this is-! I'm not dressed for-!"

Blaine laughed. "Relax, you look amazing. Come on."

Still hesitant, Kurt stepped inside, hyperaware of Blaine's hand on the small of his back as he gazed around in awe at the candlelit tables, exquisite decor, and customers dressed to the nines. He desperately hoped Blaine planned on paying, because there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to afford this on his own, and that would just be all kinds of awkward and embarrassing.

He ended up letting Blaine order for him, and the pasta dish they brought him was absolutely mouthwatering. Blaine looked very pleased when Kurt voiced his approval. The conversation flowed easily; they talked about everything and anything, teasing and joking and even sharing bites of their food. _This has to be a date. It has to be. That or Blaine is the flirtiest __guy I've ever met._

It was during a dessert of tiramisu when Blaine's phone went off in his pocket, and he broke off mid-laugh. "Sorry," he grimaced, pulling out his iPhone and swiping at the screen. His frown deepened. "Shit."

"What's wrong?"

"The pap is here," he mumbled, fingers flying as he tapped out a response to the text message.

Kurt stared at him blankly until Blaine looked up and noticed his confusion. "Paparazzi," the musician clarified. "I have no idea how they found out." He sighed and ran a hand absently through his hair, apparently forgetting that his curls were currently being controlled by a generous amount of gel. "God, I'm ___so _sorry, Kurt."

He shrugged. "It's fine." And it was. He wasn't even really sure what the problem was. Surely Blaine was more than used to being bombarded by cameras and microphones by now…

Blaine paid quickly – not even batting an eye at the triple-digit bill – and guided Kurt towards the door, a hand firmly on his elbow. "There's a car waiting," he explained under his breath, "but we're going to have to get through the pap first. Just keep your head down and stay close to me, okay?"

Kurt nodded, still bemused.

Blaine took a deep breath as if preparing for battle and then pushed the door open.

Voices immediately barraged his ears. Blinding flashes went off from all angles; Kurt raised a hand to shield his eyes. He couldn't make out any of the questions the reporters were throwing at them – It was all an incoherent rumble of noise – but he heard Blaine's name called several times.

"Please let us through," Blaine said above the din, forcing his way through the crowd, shoulders hunched, head bowed, both hands on Kurt's shoulders as if afraid he was going to be pulled away and lost in the sea of cameras. Which honestly did seem like something to be worried about. Kurt felt claustrophobic and very on-display.

Blaine pulled open the door to a tinted-windowed black car and had Kurt get in ahead of him. When they were both inside, they let out matching sighs of relief.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Go. Anywhere. My place," Blaine breathed, running his hand through his curls again. He glanced to Kurt. "Are you alright?"

"I- Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. That was…interesting."

Blaine gave a weak chuckle. "That's one way of putting it." He reached out and took Kurt's hand between both of his own. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. That really wasn't something I wanted to subject you to." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "Kinda ruined the date, didn't it…"

___Date. He said date._

___Breathe._

___In, out._

"No." Kurt squeezed his hand and waited until Blaine looked up to meet his gaze. "It didn't. Not at all."

Blaine smiled hopefully. He glanced down at their entwined hands, bit his lip, glanced back up at Kurt through criminally enchanting eyelashes. "Do- Do you maybe wanna do this again sometime? Not- Not Maria's, obviously – somewhere new."

Kurt smirked. "Blaine Anderson, are you asking me out on a second date?" he teased, impressed by his own daring.

"I believe I am," Blaine grinned.

Plucking up courage he didn't know he had, Kurt brought their hands up and kissed Blaine's knuckles. "I would love to," he murmured, loving the way Blaine's cheeks flushed a little and his eyes danced.

"Really?"

"Really."

…

Dating his idol was not honestly as strange as he'd originally feared.

"Hi sweetie," Blaine murmured with a sleepy smile, tilting his head back to receive Kurt's good-morning kiss over the back of the couch. "I got your usual."

Kurt picked up the steaming coffee cup on the counter. "You went to Lulu's?"

Blaine shook his head and swallowed his mouthful. "Had Jackson bring it."

The designer rolled his eyes, but took a sip of his mocha. Blaine's P.A. had been sent on too many coffee runs to count. He crossed Blaine's spacious living room and curled up on the couch next to his boyfriend, who was still in his pajamas.

"What are your plans for the day?"

Blaine hummed and stared contemplatively into his cup as if hoping it would tell him the answer. "Um…I think I have an interview at one. Yeah, a talk show." He nodded to himself and took another long gulp of coffee. Kurt smiled endearingly; Blaine was definitely not a morning person. He was practically a zombie until he got some caffeine in him.

He checked his phone and sighed. "I should be going."

"No," Blaine whined, linking his arm around Kurt's and hugging it to him, trying to keep him seated there next to him. "Don't go. I'll miss you. Stay here with me."

Kurt laughed and kissed him softly. "Babe, I'll get fired if I do that. As much as I'd love to spend the entire morning cuddling."

Blaine pouted, and Kurt kissed him again, teasing his bottom lip until he could feel Blaine beginning to smile. "Alright, alright, fine. Go. Have a nice day."

"I'll cook dinner tonight if you'd like," Kurt offered as he stood, coffee in hand, and crossed to where his coat was hanging by the door. "We should invite Rachel though. I think she's feeling kind of abandoned. I'm over here more than at our own apartment."

"Yeah, of course. The more the merrier." Blaine gave an odd wave of his hand; Kurt was pretty sure it was his tired version of approval. "See you at six."

"See you at six," Kurt agreed. "I love you!"

"Love you, too," Blaine called, grinning over his coffee cup, feet curled beneath him, hair a wild mess of curls. Kurt departed with that image clear in his mind, loving that he was one of the very few people Blaine allowed to see him like that.

It should have been worrisome how quickly they'd fallen for each other, how quickly their relationship developed from fan-and-idol into so much more, but it felt so natural to both of them. They'd only been together for two months, but it felt like two years. They grew to know one another almost as well as they knew themselves. There had been a small hiccup when the paparazzi had figured out who Kurt was and that they were dating, but they dealt with it. Together. For now, they were just happy to spend as much time as they could together – sometimes entire weekends, sometimes just a stolen five minutes on Kurt's lunch break. Apart from their absurdly busy schedules and the media hounding them, they tried to have as normal of a relationship as possible. Kurt went with Blaine to as many of his concerts as he could; Blaine surprised Kurt with coffee and a massage one night when he'd been stressed out of his mind over an upcoming fashion show; they took a Wednesday off where they did nothing but laze around Blaine's apartment all day, because why not.

It wasn't perfect.

But it was perfectly imperfect.

…

**This was originally broken into six parts, so sorry for the time jumps.**

**See you tomorrow, everyone! :D As usual, feel free to leave a prompt in my ask box (rippleklainebagels) or in a review. :)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	7. Drabble 7: Proposal

**Written for a gifset of lifeguard!Blaine, because who can resist?**

…

"Yes," Kurt laughed, tears welling up in his eyes. "___Yes_, I'll marry you, Blaine."

Blaine fell back in relief, creating a dramatic splash and making Kurt laugh at his childish excitement. He was excited, too. Beyond words. ___Marriage. I'm going to marry Blaine! We're going to be married. Husbands. Oh my god. I get to spend the rest of my life with him!_

As their friends clapped and cheered their support, Blaine swam over to where Kurt stood at the edge of the pool. Kurt reached down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt to drag him out, and Blaine scrambled after him eagerly. Not caring that Blaine was soaking wet and the chlorine would probably destroy his clothing, Kurt pulled him close and kissed him senseless. Blaine wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him, spinning him around and laughing against his mouth. Kurt giggled breathlessly.

"Your clothes are probably ruined," Blaine murmured.

Kurt just grinned, kissing him again. "I don't care."

"Oh my god, he cares more about you than his clothes?" Santana drawled, still wading in the pool. "He ___must _love you, Hobbit."

"That's right," Kurt beamed. "I do."

And five months later, on the night of their wedding, he repeated those same two magical words.

…

**I picture Blaine up there on his lifeguard tower watching over the little babies in floaties and I just wanna throw Kurt at him and scream HERE HAVE A MAN YOU'VE EARNED IT GOLD STAR FOR YOU!**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	8. Drabble 8: Gushing

**Written for a text post about Blaine gushing over Kurt's performance.**

…

Burt met them at the doorway.

"How'd it go?" he demanded at once, ushering them inside, his expression torn between worry and excitement.

"I- I think it went okay?" Kurt muttered.

"Okay?" Blaine scoffed. "___Okay? _Burt, he was_ i____n____credible! _He blew her away. She adored him. And with good reason! He was superb!"

"Blaine, stop," Kurt blushed modestly.

"He most certainly will not!" Burt said, beaming widely. "Go on, Blaine! What happened? Tell me everything!"

And so he did. He explained in great detail how the audition had gone down – skipping over the skin-tight golden pants aspect, because he wasn't sure discussing that with Kurt's father was really a very good idea – and Burt just stood there, nodded encouragingly, pride written all over his face. Kurt was silent as Blaine sung his praises, smiling to himself but unwilling to chip in for fear of going on an unstoppable rant.

"Kurt, that's amazing!" Burt said, crushing his son in a bear hug.

"We are so proud of you, baby." Blaine kissed him, unabashed by showing such affection in front of Kurt's father. It was natural; easy. The three of them, together…The two most important people in Kurt's life, congratulating him and showering him with praise. It was even better than being told he'd done well in his audition by Ms. Tibideaux.

It was the feeling of being truly ___home _at last.

…

**And then Glee yet again shat on Kurt Hummel's plotline.**

**(Two again today because they're both so short. I think this is gonna be a thing from now on...)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	9. Drabble 9: Survival of the Fittest

**Written for a Hunger Games AU gifset.**

…

"Kurt, come on, you've got to get out of the house."

"No!" The teenage boy sat resolutely on the couch, eyes trained on the television as they'd been ever since that year's Hunger Games had begun. He hardly ate; he hardly slept. His father tried to persuade him to come help at the shop, but he never moved from his spot. He couldn't. Not while Blaine was risking his life for him over in the arena at this very moment, when every second could be his last. Kurt had to watch. He had to know what was going on. He had to know Blaine was still alive.

"Kurt," Burt sighed, resting a hand on the back of the couch. "You're killin' yourself just watchin' all day long. You've got to keep yourself healthy! For Blaine's sake…If he comes home-" He caught the flash of rage in his son's eyes and quickly amended, "___When _Blaine comes home, how do you think he'd feel to find you half-starved and weak as a limp noodle?"

"Blaine's suffering far worse than me right now," Kurt snapped, voice thick with suppressed emotion. His vision of the screen blurred; he blinked away the tears. He had to be able to see. On the television, one of the tributes from District 3 slipped on a mossy rock while fishing, slicing open their shin. Kurt didn't even react.

"So, what, if Blaine's sufferin' you gotta suffer too?"

Kurt said nothing.

The older Hummel heaved a great sigh and sank down next to Kurt on the couch. "Look," he started again, much more gently. "I get that you're worried for him. I am, too. Hell, the whole town is! But he's strong. Just because he's so small doesn't mean he can't win. He's smart, right?"

Kurt nodded reluctantly. Blaine had always been top of the class in school.

"See? And he made it through the bloodbath at the Cornucopia practically unscathed, remember?"

"The girl from District Two cut his arm," Kurt reminded.

"Well, yeah, okay, but he put those leaves on it and it's healin' up just fine." Burt leaned forward, trying to catch Kurt's eye. "He's ___alive_, Kurt. He's lasted this long, and he'll last to the end! And then he'll come back to us. To you. Okay?"

Kurt sniffed. "It's my fault he's there." His voice came out as a whimper, hardly registrable.

Burt wrapped an arm firmly around Kurt's thin frame. He could practically feel his bones through his clothing. ___He's wasting away_. "Hey, no, not this again! ___Stop it_. This is ___not _your fault."

"It was ___my _name that was called!" Kurt's emotionless façade broke down, and he turned to sob into his father's shoulder. Burt wrapped him in his arms and held him close, his heart breaking from his son's pain. "I should have gone. B-Blaine shouldn't have volunteered for me. Now he might d-die and it'll be all my fault, and I'll n-never get to see him again, and I c-can't-"

"Of ___course _you will," Burt insisted gruffly, determined to stay strong for Kurt's sake. "He's made it into the final eight, hasn't he? And he has food, and water; he's in a lot better condition than most of the others. But it's not just that. Do you know why I know he'll win?"

Kurt drew back, wiping his eyes and sniffing. "N-No. Why?"

Burt waited until Kurt met his gaze before answering. "Because he's fighting for ___you_. Because he has ___you _to come home to. And he's going to do his ___damnedest _to see you again."

A weak laugh escaped the younger Hummel. "He always was pretty stubborn…"

Burt grinned, glad to have finally broken through the walls Kurt had built around himself since the Reaping. "Your damn right he is! When that kid sets his mind to something, he gets it done no matter what the cost. Remember when you two were younger, and you told him you always admired the flowers the women from the Capitol put in their hair?"

Kurt chuckled at the memory. "And so he snuck out of the District and picked flowers for me from the meadow…I remember."

Burt squeezed his shoulder in encouragement. "Blaine's going to be just fine, Kurt. I promise."

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded, resting his head on Burt's shoulder as they both turned their attention back to the television screen. The camera switched to Blaine. Burt felt his son tense at once. But his boyfriend was fine; he was lounging in a tree, nibbling on what appeared to be a handful of berries, the kind Kurt and Blaine used to pick in the springtime and feed each other until their lips and fingers were stained purple.

___He's going to be alright_, Burt thought, glancing at his son. ___They'll both be._

…

**This drabble actually evolved into my Fighter fic, which you can find on my profile. :D**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	10. Drabble 10: Missing You

**Written for a gifset of Blaine going to see Burt when Kurt's in New York.**

…

"I miss you," Kurt breathed.

Blaine's heart clenched painfully. He held his phone so close to his face it hurt. "I miss you too, Kurt. So, ___so _much."

"I wish you were here with me…"

Each word was like a punch to the chest. "I know, baby…I know. And I will be, remember? When you go back to school in the fall I'm going to be right there beside you."

He could hear the smile in Kurt's soft, sleepy voice. It had been a long day for him, and he was clearly exhausted. Blaine felt the powerful urge to cradle him and sing him to sleep, like he used to do when Kurt was tired and struggling to stay awake. "Tell me again, Blaine. Tell me how it's gonna go…"

And so Blaine did. "At the end of summer, we're going to load up the car and drive to New York together. We're going to get a tiny apartment between your school and mine, with a cranky old cat lady for a landlord and a great view of the city from our balcony, and you'll redecorate it to your heart's content, and even though the lights sometimes go out and the neighbors are loud and obnoxious, we'll still love it because it's our own. You're going to take over the closet space with all of your clothes, but I won't mind, because I love seeing our stuff all mixed together. We'll have coffee every morning before class, and we'll learn each other's schedules just as quickly as our own so that we can surprise one another every now and then, and go out on dates when our workloads aren't too demanding. And sometimes we'll fight, but every time, without fail, we'll wake up in the same bed and forget why we were angry in the first place, because we're madly in the love and that's all that matters in the end, and even when we're stressed and overwhelmed, we know that there's somebody waiting for us at home, and that's all we need to make it through."

He paused, and was met with the deep, steady breathing of an unconscious Kurt.

Blaine chuckled gently into the phone, ignoring the tears that had sprung to his eyes as he described their dream-future together. "Goodnight, baby. I love you."

…

Blaine was not entirely sure how he ended up on the doorstep of the Hummel-Hudson household. It was late; he was surprised there was still a light on in the living room. As if watching himself from outside his body, he reached out and knocked on the door.

"Blaine!" Burt greeted, looking pleased – although startled – to see him on their porch. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just wondering if I could see Kurt's room for a little bit," he confessed quietly. "I just-…I really miss him."

Burt smiled knowingly at the poor boy. This was not the first time Blaine had come over after Kurt had left, and he doubted it would be the last. Kurt had asked him to keep an eye on Blaine, keep him safe, and he was more than happy to do so. He practically considered Blaine his own son already. "You know you're welcome here any time. You eaten yet, kid?"

Blaine looked up from the floor. "I- um, no, sir."

"Stay for a bite. Go on up to Kurt's room while I get something together."

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel." He entered the house, doing his best not to break into a run as he headed for the staircase.

"Hey!" Burt called after him. "I told you to call me Burt!"

Blaine found himself laughing a real laugh. Simply being in this house lifted his spirits. "Sorry, Burt."

Kurt's room was just as he'd left it – sort of barren, but still distinctly ___Kurt's_. Blaine took a deep breath in and felt the knot in his heartstrings loosen. He slid out of his shoes and jacket and scarf, before sinking down onto the bed and burying his face into the pillows, shutting his eyes and remembering with perfect clarity all those times he and Kurt had laid here together.

"I miss you, Kurt," he whispered brokenly into the pillow.

The room was silent.

…

**Waah long-distance relationships are the _worst_ ;u;**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	11. Drabble 11: Brotherly Advice

"Hey…Kurt?"

Kurt glanced over to his doorway, where his step-brother was hovering awkwardly. He sniffed and quickly rubbed his eyes free of the stray tears that lingered there.

"Hi, Finn. What can I do for you?"

"I was just, um…wondering if maybe you wanted to talk?"

Kurt stared at him blankly. Then he sighed heavily and collapsed back onto his bed, the framed picture he'd been holding flopping face-down onto his pillow. "I'm not really in the mood to give you advice about Rachel."

"No, no, not about me!" Finn corrected quickly. "I- I meant you."

Kurt peeked up at him. "Me?" he echoed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, that song Blaine sung today in glee club…" Kurt tensed at the sound of his boyfriend's name. ___Is he even still my boyfriend? Is he going to break up with me? Oh god, what if he breaks up with me? How do I fix this?_

"Um, dude?"

"Look, Blaine and I had- had a fight. Okay? It's none of your business."

Finn hesitated, then seemed to take the plunge. He moved further into the room and shut the door behind him. "Look, man, I know you're my brother and all, but Blaine's a really cool dude too and I don't want you to hurt him. He seemed, like, ___really _upset today. What did you do to make him so-?"

"Oh my god!" Kurt burst out. "I'm ___not _cheating on Blaine! Jesus, how many times do I have to say it? Chandler's just a ___friend _– a nice friend that compliments me and actually pays attention to me, which Blaine hasn't exactly been doing much of lately, I might add! But I love Blaine more than anyone in the world and I am ___sick _of people thinking I would ever intentionally do something to hurt him! God, don't you remember how upset I was with the whole Sebastian fiasco? I would _never_ do something like that to him. Why won't he just listen to me? And you! You're not supposed to be taking his side in this! You're supposed to believe me when I tell you that Blaine is singlehandedly the best thing in my life and I hadn't realized I'd done anything wrong until it was too late and he misunderstood!"

He took a deep breath, and realized that he was crying again.

Finn seemed dumbstruck by Kurt's rant. After a moment, though, he snapped out of it and shuffled forward to sit next to him on the bed and pat him awkwardly on the shoulder. "I- I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Calm down, please? It's just- You two are basically the strongest couple in glee club, so it freaks everyone out when you two fight. 'Cause, you know, it, like, ___never _happens. You guys are always just rainbows and sunshine and stuff…"

Kurt hiccuped and reached over to grab a tissue. "Well, obviously we're not, since Blaine basically just sang me a break-up song in front of everybody and made them think I cheated on him."

"Did you?"

There was no accusation in Finn's tone; simply curious.

"No!" Kurt said firmly. Then, after a beat, he added, "At least…not intentionally. There- There's this guy I met at Between the Sheets. Chandler. He's really nice and friendly to me, so I didn't think there was anything wrong with texting him. But his texts are sometimes…" He thought for a moment. "Okay, ___all the time_, pretty flirty."

"Oh." Kurt could tell Finn felt a tad uncomfortable with this topic, but nobly plowed on. "And…Blaine found out?"

"Yeah. He thought I was…I don't even know. I tried to explain the situation to him but he just got so angry, and I guess I got sort of defensive about it, and we argued, and- and now he's probably going to dump me and I'm going to lose the greatest thing that's ever come into my life!"

He began to sob in earnest. Loud, gut-wrenching sobs that tore through his throat as they came up. Finn rubbed his back and let him cry it out, no doubt unnerved beyond belief but not moving him from his spot.

"I don't think you'll lose him," he said at last.

Kurt took a gasping breath. "W-Why not?"

"Because you and Blaine, are, like, ___soulmates _or whatever. If anybody can work things out, it's you two. I'm pretty sure if you guys broke up, the apocalypse would come." That startled a tiny laugh out of him. Finn grinned at the progress and continued on. "I'll talk to Blaine if you'd like? Or maybe you two just need some time to cool off? I know that's what you always tell me to do when Rachel and I fight…"

Kurt bit his lip. "No," he decided in the end. "I should be the one to talk to him. He needs to hear it from me."

"Alright." Finn got up to leave him in peace. Just as he reached the door, though, he glanced back and added, "You know, we ___are _all in glee club. Maybe you could…I don't know, sing about it or something?"

And suddenly, Kurt knew exactly what song he would be singing for this week's assignment.

…

**Gold star, Finn. Sometimes you don't suck. Mwah!**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	12. Drabble 12: The Letter

"Kurt?"

The countertenor groaned into his pillow.

"Kurt, sweetheart, you might want to read this…"

"The only thing I want to do right now is drown my sorrows in a tub of ice cream and wait for the crying to stop," the brunet grumbled, lifting his head a fraction to expose red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks streaked with tears, mussed bangs that had long since lost their typically perfect form. Kurt Hummel was a ___mess_. He had no future. No plans. No clue what he was going to do with his life now, where he'd go, what he'd be.

And his boyfriend wanted him to read his ___email_?

"Kurt," Blaine repeated patiently, glancing over from Kurt's desk, a strange shine in his eyes, the vaguest flicker of a smile on his lips. "Come here. I ___really _think you'll want to read this."

Frowning, he grudgingly obeyed, dragging himself out of bed – ___oh god, how long was I laying there, I feel like I haven't moved in months _– and over to where Blaine was sitting. The shorter man turned the screen towards him and scooted aside so Kurt could get closer to the desk. He heaved a great sigh but absently began to read.

And stopped.

And started again from the top.

And stopped.

And read the first few lines over for a third time.

And stopped.

___Dear Mr. Hummel,_

___We apologize for our mistake in our letter mailed to you earlier this week. There was a miscommunication with Ms. Tibideaux concerning your audition. We are pleased to inform you that you are indeed accepted to New York Academy for the Dramatic Arts. Your correct letter is being mailed immediately; you should receive it within the next few days-_

"Is this…What- I don't-?"

Blaine pursed his lips to hold back his grin. "Read it out loud," he suggested in an excited whisper.

So he did.

"I…I got in?" he breathed. Blaine nodded encouragingly. "I…Oh my god, Blaine, I got in! I really made it!"

"You did it, baby!" he laughed, scooping Kurt up into his arms and spinning around the room. "You're going to NYADA!" He set Kurt back on his feet, both of them laughing and grinning like idiots and a little misty-eyed. He caressed Kurt's smooth cheek, catching a stray tear. "Oh, Kurt…I'm _so_ proud of you."

Kurt gave him a wet kiss, which ended in a half-laugh, half-sob. "Oh god, I'm such a mess…I- Um, I need to tell my dad!"

"Let's go, then," Blaine urged, guiding him towards the door with his hands on Kurt's hips from behind.

"Blaine." Kurt paused in the doorway, turning back to face his boyfriend.

"Yeah?"

He squealed and threw his arms back around Blaine's neck. "I'm going to New York!"

Blaine laughed again. "You are. New York won't know what hit it."

…

**I wrote this right after we found out Kurt didn't get in because _there will never be a __logical excuse for that_ I'm sorry but I will never not be bitter about it.**

**Posting super early because I'm flying home for winter break today and I don't really fancy posting fanfic in the middle of an airport…**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	13. Drabble 13: New Roommate

**Written for a gifset of Blaine talking to the principal of Dalton.**

…

"Mr. Anderson," Principal Brookey began. "I understand that you do not have a roommate?"

"No, sir," Blaine answered, hesitant. He did not like where this was going.

Principal Brookey sensed his unease, and cut to the chase. "We have a new transfer student coming in today, and as you may already be aware, the dormitories are overbooked this year. The only room left to put him is in-"

"Mine?" he finished, trying his best to hide his frustration. He loved having his own space; it was perfect for studying, or just goofing off by himself. Now he would be stuck with someone who he'd never met before, probably had horrible cleaning habits, and knew nothing of his own living patterns. He was going to have to start doing his homework in the library and spending more time in his friends' rooms if this transfer student turned out to be-

"And here he is now..."

In walked an angel.

No, not an angel. But as close to one as any human being could possibly get. His skin was fair, flawless, like moonlight; his brunet locks had faint natural highlights that made Blaine want to run his fingers through them; those eyes were blue, green, silver, ___so _expressive. The stranger gave a tiny smile, the edges of his thin pink lips curling upwards in the most beautiful way. Blaine tried to smile back, but his face felt numb. Unresponsive.

"Mr. Anderson, meet Kurt Hummel. Mr. Hummel, this will be your roommate, Blaine Anderson."

"Hello," Kurt greeted, holding out a hand. It looked so soft, and fragile, like one wrong move could snap it.

After a second, he realized that he'd just been staring blankly at the hand. "I- Hi!" he fumbled, quickly shaking the proffered hand. ___Oh god it really is soft how does he do that he must have some special type of lotion- _"Welcome to Dalton, Kurt."

The new student's smile turned almost a little playful. "I'm sure I'll enjoy it here…"

"I'm sure you will, too."

Principal Brookey looked between the two boys, baffled, wondering what on Earth he was missing.

…

**Sorry, forgot to post one yesterday! D: Just got home, so I've been away from my computer a lot. I'll post two today to make up for it. :) My bad.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	14. Drabble 14: McKinley HS of Magic

**Written for a gifset of magical!Klaine.**

…

Kurt's pencil began to hover for the fourth time that class period.

"Blaine," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, risking a glance towards his boyfriend, who was seated two rows away from him. The dark-haired boy grinned, snickered into his fist. "Stop it!"

"Mr. Hummel, do you have something to say?" the raven-like teacher, Mrs. Bates, snapped.

"No, ma'am." He could hear Blaine's stifled laughter again, but did not dare break eye contact with the instructor currently piercing him with her amber gaze.

"Then I suppose you'd like to give me the answer? Tell me, what incantation must you use in order to create an invisible shield?"

"Amplus contego," he answered immediately.

She frowned. "Correct," she begrudged, continuing on with her lecture of protective spells. Kurt sent his worst glare in Blaine's direction, who smiled, unfazed, and quickly began scribbling something on a new piece of paper. With a flick of his fingers, it then folded itself into a crane, and a whispered enchantment sent it flapping its way over the heads of the other students to land on Kurt's desk. Waiting until Mrs. Bates's back was turned, he snatched it and unfolded it atop his notes. It was a red inked heart around their names with an arrow through it. He looked back to Blaine and rolled his eyes, but could not stop the smile making its way onto his face.

"You love it," Blaine mouthed.

Kurt traced 'I love you' with his fingertip onto his notebook paper, and when Blaine glanced down again, the message was imprinted onto his own.

…

***U* Cute high school shenanigans are the best.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	15. Drabble 15: Our Future

"Excuse me?"

Blaine turned, and suddenly the slow-motion kicked in. Normally he wasn't startled by it – it happened every time he met someone new, after all – but he had not expected it to happen today. He thought he'd already met everyone at Dalton that he'd have a future with.

You see, Blaine had this power. A gift, a curse, call it what you will. Whenever he met somebody that would have a significant impact on his life – a friend, a foe, anybody that affected him in the slightest – time slowed down, and he was hit with flashes of their future together. They were quick, just passing glimpses of their upcoming interactions, but it was enough to tell him what kind of relationship they'd have – good or bad. It made it extremely easy to make friends that way, and know who to avoid.

When he first laid eyes upon this new boy, however, the flashes took his breath away. The two of them singing together in the car, laughing over coffee, holding hands in the hallway, kissing under the mistletoe, getting their first apartment together in New York, visiting his mother's gravestone, standing side-by-side at the alter, screaming at one another from opposite ends of the living room, cuddling in their bed, chasing after a beautiful little girl with Blaine's eyes and blonde hair, crying at her college graduation, standing side-by-side at Blaine's father's funeral with their daughter and her fiancée, sitting together on the porch bench outside their retirement house, a fat cat asleep at their feet and knobbly hands intertwined-

"Hi, I'm new here. Can I ask you a question?"

Time returned to its usual pace, and Blaine blinked, completely dumbstruck.

"I'm Blaine," he finally managed, holding out a hand.

The handsome boy took it. "Kurt."

___Hello, Kurt. You're the love of my life._

…

"What do you mean? I don't understand…"

Blaine sighed, running a hand through – more like ___over _– his curls. "I- I'm not sure how exactly to explain it. It's like- When I first meet someone, I get these ___flashes _or something, and I see our future together. Sometimes they're super short if I only know them for a little while. Sometimes, like with David and Wes, they're a lot longer."

He scooted a little closer and tentatively took Kurt's hand. "Did…Kurt, do you remember when we first met?"

Kurt nodded silently.

"Remember how it looked like I zoned out for a few seconds?"

Another nod.

"That's because I- I saw our future together. The second I laid eyes on you."

Kurt swallowed. "And…What did you see?" he asked, so quietly Blaine could barely catch it. The countertenor's hand tightened almost imperceptibly in Blaine's, and Blaine knew he was scared of hearing the answer Blaine was about to give.

He smiled lovingly and leaned in to press a feather-light kiss to Kurt's lips. "Let's just say we're going to be together for a very, ___very _long time…"

Kurt let out the breath he was holding, and his face broke out in a dazzling smile. "You mean…?"

"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, Kurt. And I want every single moment I saw back then to happen in real life. With you. If- If that's what you want, too." His fell seriously once more, and he reluctantly let go of Kurt's hand. "I-…I'll understand if you don't want to be with me anymore. I know it's not- I mean, I know my flashes aren't normal. But I thought you should know about them because I love you, and I want you to know everything about me, and-"

He broke off when Kurt began to laugh.

"Blaine," he smiled, taking back Blaine's hand between both of his own. "You're not going to scare me away."

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. Kurt moved up the bed and snuggled into Blaine's side, where he fit perfectly. They both reclined into the pillows and tangled their legs together, Kurt's head coming to rest on Blaine's chest. It felt so unequivocally ___right_.

"Besides," Kurt added quietly, the smile evident in his voice even though Blaine couldn't see it, "we have an entire future together that you've already gotten to see. I want to see it for myself now. And since I don't have your 'flashes,' I guess you're just going to be stuck with me until I've seen them all."

Blaine chuckled and pressed a kiss to his hair and held him closer. "I can live with that."

…

**Merry Christmas Eve, everyone!**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	16. Drabble 16: Just One Dance

**Written for a fanart of Kurt as a prince and Blaine as a servant.**

…

Blaine smiled sadly as he watched Kurt from the sidelines. He had already danced with five men – not that Blaine had been keeping track or anything – and was now waltzing with a sixth. He knew Kurt had very little say in the matter – a prince that has come of age must dance with all the eligible bachelors of the land – but that knowledge did little to ease his pain. He hated seeing other men so close to Kurt, his master and life-long best friend, when he himself was forced to hover in the background.

"Kills you, doesn't it?"

He did not jump; he had long since grown accustomed to Santana's tendency to sneak up on people. Especially him. "He is eighteen, it's traditional for a prince at his coming-of-age ball to-"

"That doesn't answer my question though, Hobbit."

"You ___know _how I feel about him."

She sighed and moved the tray of glasses balanced in her hand to the other. "You should just tell him-"

"No," he cut her off, knowing exactly where she was going with that. "We've had this conversation already, far too many times. He's a prince; I'm just a servant. That's that."

"But you love him!" She literally stomped her foot impatiently. "And I've seen the way he looks at you-"

"It doesn't ___matter_," he snapped, his patience quickly waning. He could not handle this. The love of his life was dancing with another man twenty paces away and he could not handle this. "We could never be together, Santana. Not the way I wish. So just drop it."

She huffed, and stormed off through the crowd of regally-dressed guests.

"Have you managed to frustrate Santana again?" A high, clear, teasing voice came from behind him.

He gasped and whirled around. "I- Oh! Your Highness-"

"How many times must I tell you to call me Kurt?"

Blaine smiled back at him, inclined his head. "Once more, it would seem. As always. Would you like anything? A drink? Santana has some lovely-"

"I would like you to dance with me."

He froze, taken aback. "You- What?"

Kurt held out a hand in invitation. It was a request, not an order. "Please…Just one dance?"

Blaine took a deep breath, hesitant. But in the end, he gave in; he always gave in whenever Kurt was involved. He simply could not say no to the young prince. He desperately tried to ignore the eyes on them – on ___him _– as they made their way onto the dance floor. Kurt, who either didn't notice or didn't care, wrapped his arms loosely around Blaine's neck, and Blaine tentatively placed his hands at his waist.

"Relax," Kurt murmured. "You're not breaking any rules by simply dancing with me."

"But you're the prince," Blaine fretted, risking a glance in King Burt's direction. The older man was studying them intently, his expression unreadable. "You should be dancing with the noblemen, not wasting your time with m-"

"Time spent with you is never a waste." His tone was irrefutable. "If anything, you've temporarily ___saved _me from those dull stiffs. I would much rather spend my night with you than any of them."

"But…Why?"

Kurt blinked in surprise. "Why-? Blaine, you're my best friend! And yes," he quickly went on when he saw Blaine's expression, "you're also my servant. But that doesn't matter to me, you know it doesn't. It doesn't stop me from lo- liking you. A lot. Even when I'm forced to marry some pompous nobleman of the 'proper lineage,' who's probably feigning his sexuality anyway just to have a chance at the throne, I still want you there at my side. If- If you're willing, of course."

Blaine beamed, and tightened his arms more securely around Kurt's waist. "It would be my honor, Your H- Kurt." Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, "Who else would be there to tell you when you've overdone the hair product?"

Kurt laughed; it was Blaine's favorite sound. "Precisely. I ___need _you."

He rested his forehead against Blaine's and closed his eyes. Blaine followed suit. A contented smile spread across the servant's face, and he inhaled deeply, reveling in the rare contact he was being awarded with, in the proximity he so craved yet never dared act upon. They moved around the dance floor, lost in their own little world, and for a moment, their titles melted away, and they became nothing more than two boys who were completely and madly in love. Status did not matter; just emotions.

For a single, beautiful song, they could simply ___be_. And for Blaine, that was enough.

…

**I love prince!Kurt so much. sdfghjk;hf**

**ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS! I'll be spending the day with the fam, thus the early morning posting. :)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	17. Drabble 17: Gumwrapper Ring

"Blaine?"

The younger Anderson did not look up, his gaze trained intently on the gum wrappers he was working with and the open origami book in front of him.

"Blaine, what are you doing?" Cooper tried again, stepping further into the room.

"It has to be perfect," Blaine mumbled.

Cooper frowned. "What does?"

"Kurt's Christmas present."

Cooper waited for further explanation, but none came. His younger brother just continued to fold and crease and bend those thin metallic pieces of paper around themselves, his eyes - which were beginning to develop shadows - flickering every now and then to the reference book open on the floor. He looked so absorbed in his project that Cooper was quite certain he wouldn't have noticed if the house had caught fire.

"Um…That's great, Blainey. But what exactly…?"

"It's his Christmas present," Blaine repeated.

Cooper sighed, and gave up. "I'm sure he'll love it. Whatever it is…"

Blaine finally looked up at him, his wild hazel eyes dancing with hope. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course he will. It's from you, isn't it?"

…

**Because of course Blaine would obsess over it. He wants only the best for Kurt.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	18. Drabble 18: Underclassmen

Claude was on his way to Chem when someone grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side behind a row of lockers.

"Hey, watch it!" he snapped. "This is Alexander Mc-"

"Don't you think I know that?" his best friend (and crush), Steven, cut him off in a hiss. "Now hush up and look."

Still grumbling, he followed Steven's lead and leaned around the lockers to glance down the hallway, which was crowded with students. At first, he could not figure out what he was supposed to be staring at. But then he spotted them. The Ruling Gay Couple of McKinley: Kurt-and-Blaine.

"Oh my god it's them," he breathed.

"Aren't they adorable?" Steven practically squealed.

Claude took a second more to ogle, then cleared his throat and bopped Steven on top of his head. "Okay, this is just creepy. Let's just go ___talk__ t_o them."

Steven looked like Claude had just suggested they throw themselves at the feet of the nearest jock. "No way! That would be even weirder!"

"Weirder than watching them from around corners?" Claude's eyebrow rose. Steven opened his mouth, realized it was fruitless, and closed it again. "Come on." He grabbed Steven's hand and yanked him forward, artfully swerving through the crowds to where Kurt and Blaine were standing and talking, Blaine's finger hooked in one of the front pockets of Kurt's jeans as the brunet fiddled with something in his locker.

"-just saying that you have to remember to keep up with your own studies while I'm away," Kurt was saying. "I don't want to be responsible for my boyfriend's flunk-out."

"You have ___no _faith in me," Blaine pretended to pout.

"I have ___every _faith in you." Kurt kissed him briefly, just a peck, and yet to Claude it was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. And that was saying something; he had ___kittens _at home for crying out loud.

"Um," he tried. Suddenly he felt very stupid for suggesting they go talk to them. What on Earth was he supposed to say to these two?

The couple turned to him curiously, Blaine immediately removing his finger from Kurt's pocket. Claude suddenly realized he was still holding Steven's wrist tightly and released him as if he'd been burned. "I- Uh, I just wanted to say that I love your scarf, and I think you two are really brave and inspiring."

Kurt looked absolutely dumbfounded. Blaine broke into a wide grin, his hazel eyes sparkling beautifully the same way Steven's did when he was excited. "Well thank you! That's really nice of you to say. Are you…?"

"Yes," he nodded. "So is he. This is Steven."

"Hi," Steven murmured, suddenly shy. He may have been outgoing and friendly with people he knew, but strangers still brought out the antisocial side of him Claude had been combatting for years.

"Hey," Blaine returned easily.

Kurt closed his locker and turned to face them fully. "Never be ashamed. That's the best advice I can possibly give you. No matter what they do to you – toss you in dumpsters, shove you into lockers, slushie you, call you names – just remember that you're better than all of them. And you dress better," he added with a wink. Claude laughed.

"We've got class," Blaine reminded Kurt quietly.

"Oh, right." The taller boy smiled at the sophomores warmly. "See you guys later." His hand slipped into Blaine's as if it was instinctual, and together they made their way down the hallway, looking ever the part of a happily married couple. It made Claude want to cry.

Steven touched his shoulder gently. "Claude? You alright?"

He sniffed. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm great. Sorry." He turned to grin at his best friend and grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's go to Chem."

And they walked in the opposite direction from Kurt and Blaine, hands swinging, hope in their hearts and smiles on their faces that nobody could destroy.

…

**Of course Kurt and Blaine had a mini gay fanclub. ;)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	19. Drabble 19: This is Crazy and I Love It

"Oh come on, Blaine, just one more store?"

"You've got to be kidding me! That's what you've said for the past ___five _stores," he pretended to protest, even though he went along willingly as Tina tugged him onwards, their elbows linked and hands ladened with shopping bags. They had spent practically the entire day at the mall, and it was nearing closing time. The number of shoppers was slowly dwindling. Yet still they pressed on, determined to find all the best bargains in their mission to create Tina's new wardrobe for the school year. They would be seniors, and she declared that to be the perfect excuse for a fashion make-over. Blaine agreed whole-heartedly.

"Okay, okay, but I promise, this really ___will _be the last one," Tina laughed.

"Somehow I don't think-"

A flash of gold caught his eye. A tall, thin, fair-skinned boy was hurrying passed, clad in black pants, hightop boots, a silky white shirt and golden vest. His hair was light brown, streaked with faint highlights Blaine was pretty sure were natural. He watched as the handsome stranger glanced around nervously, before seeming to spot someone and ducking into Nordstrom's.

"Blaine?" Tina elbowed his side.

"What? Oh, sorry." He turned to look at whatever that boy had seen. After a second of scanning the fellow shoppers, he noticed a couple men in suits and earpieces. ___Mall security? _No, he realized; the uniforms were different. "Uh, let's try Nordstrom's."

Tina frowned, but consented. Inside, Blaine immediately began to search for the brunet, unsure of why he was so interested. Pretending that he was searching for some things for himself, he left Tina in the purse section and began roaming, keeping an eye peeled for that flash of gold.

___There!_

The boy was slipping through racks of shirts, eyes on the entrance. Coming closer. If Blaine didn't move he would be right in front of-

"Oh!"

Blaine took a quick step back as the beautiful stranger nearly ran smack into him. "God, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there! Sorry."

"No, don't worry about it," he smiled. Up close, he discovered that this guy's eyes were an incredible, hypnotic swirl of blues and greens and grays, his vest bringing out the small flecks of gold in his irises. "Too absorbed by the shirts to notice anything else?"

"What?" The young man glanced around, and a light blush colored his cheeks. "Oh, no. I was just- Well, hiding, to be honest."

"From who?"

"From my guard," he said bitterly. "They follow me everywhere – I never get any time to myself. It's torture. Can't a guy just go to the mall without needing a freaking ___escort_?"

Blaine gazed at him dumbly. "Guard? Escort?"

The stranger gave a sad smile. "Occupational hazard." He paused, and turned to stare at Blaine. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just unload on you like that." He stuck out a hand. "Hi, I'm Kurt."

Blaine chuckled, but shook it. "Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt smiled. It was a beautiful smile; Blaine could feel his own brain slowly turn to mush from the sight. "I should probably get going…If they don't find me soon they'll call my father, and that would really end badly."

"Oh, I- Yeah, okay," Blaine fumbled. Just as Kurt turned to depart, he blurted, "Do- Do you think maybe we could meet again? I know it's sort of forward, but…I don't know, maybe we could get something to eat, go somewhere crowded and have fun giving your guard the slip?"

Kurt laughed a beautiful, high, bell-like laugh. "I'd really love that, actually. Yes."

"Yes?" He knew his grin must have been ridiculous. "Great! Awesome. So-"

"I'll talk to you soon," Kurt cut in, giving a parting wave and hurrying off just as the two men in suits appeared in the entranceway. Blaine watched him weave through the store until Tina appeared at his side.

"Blaine? Who was that?" she asked.

"Kurt," he murmured. "I asked him out."

She gaped at him. "You ___what_?"

"I- I asked if I could see him again." He turned to her, panicked. "Oh my god, why did I do that? I don't even know him! He was just so nice and attractive and funny and I'm pretty sure he's a Siren or something because he's got the voice of an angel and-"

"Okay, hold up, slow down," Tina giggled. "Breathe."

He did as she ordered.

"Is it just me or did he look sort of familiar?" she added thoughtfully.

"A little," he admitted. Now that he thought about it, there was definitely something about Kurt…

And then he suddenly felt his face drop.

Because Kurt had said they would 'talk soon.' Which didn't make any sense, seeing as how they had not exchanged phone numbers or emails or anything. How were they supposed to meet up again?

Setting it aside as a lost cause, he sighed heavily and suggested they finish up their shopping for the day and head home.

…

When he checked his email that night, he found he had a new friend request from a 'Kurt Hummel.' The profile picture was of the same Kurt he'd met at the mall, looking dashing in a slim black tuxedo. Excited, he accepted the request. As his profile was revealed, however, and he scrolled through the posts and pictures, reality dawned on him, and he felt nauseous.

Hummel.

As in Burt Hummel.

As in the President of the United States.

He'd somehow just asked out the son of the most powerful man in the country, possibly the whole world.

___Oops_.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	20. Drabble 20: The Wrong Man

**Written for a gifset of Blaine as the wedding choreographer for Furt's wedding.**

…

Blaine heard the doorbell ring and somehow managed to drag himself off the couch and over to the door. He quickly shook off the sleepiness, however, when he checked to see who it was through the peephole.

"Kurt!" he gasped, throwing open the door. The young man standing on his porch looked positively miserable, his cheeks tear-stained and his hair a mess. "Oh my god, what happened? Are you alright?"

"C-Can I come in?" Kurt murmured, so quietly Blaine barely caught it.

"I- Yes. Yes, of course, come on in. Did you walk all the way here?" They weren't exactly next-door neighbors. They were at least five blocks apart.

Kurt nodded and stepped inside. "I just- I needed the fresh air," he confessed, slipping off his jacket. Blaine took it from him and hung it up, ignoring the passing thought of ___wow, it looks really good hanging right next to mine_, because now was definitely not the time for that. He led Kurt to the living room.

"Do you want anything? Some tea? Coffee? I have some store-bought cookies we could break out."

Kurt gave a weak chuckle. "Some coffee would be nice. But- Please, let me help."

Blaine wanted to protest, but seeing Kurt so distraught and timid, he doubted he was even physically capable of denying him anything at the moment. So he nodded, offered an easy smile, and took his hand to guide him into the tiny kitchen. Kurt always complained that he needed more room to cook, and Blaine would always counter that he'd never been much of a chef anyway so it didn't much matter.

"So small," Kurt muttered, reaching up and pulling down two mugs as if he'd lived there for years. Blaine took a moment to just admire the ease with which Kurt moved about his kitchen, fixing them both coffee. Finally, Kurt seemed to notice that Blaine was standing there in the doorway, dazed and immobile. "Gonna stand there for the rest of the night?"

Blaine quickly shook himself. "S-Sorry." He pulled open his refrigerator. "Want a sandwich?"

"Sure."

"Turkey, lettuce and provolone, right?"

Kurt smiled more genuinely this time. "Yes. Thank you."

They moved about the kitchen in companionable silence, working around one another like dancers, giggling when they predicted what the other man needed and handed it to them a second before they reached for it.

"Finn never remembered what I like in my sandwich," Kurt said suddenly.

Blaine tensed, his hands – which were spreading a thin layer of mustard onto his whole-grain bread – momentarily freezing. The name of Kurt's fiancé always awoke the green monster of jealousy within him. "Oh?" he said delicately. "That…I'm sorry."

Kurt shrugged. "He didn't remember a lot of things about me. He didn't remember that I'm allergic to peanuts, or that I hate it when he uses my facial creams on his hands, or that I work late on Thursdays and am usually too exhausted by the time I get home to cook anything."

Blaine pursed his lips; ___he _remembered all those things. And- ___why is he using past tense?_

"Here." Kurt set a steaming mug of coffee next to Blaine – two sugars and a dollop of 2% milk; just the way he liked it. Blaine grinned and handed over Kurt's sandwich in return. "Thanks."

Kurt waited until they were settled on the couch – a worn, sunken beige thing with a coffee stain on the arm that Kurt kept urging him to replace – with their coffee and sandwiches before he spoke again, his voice quiet but clear. "I left him."

Blaine practically choked on his ham-and-cheddar sandwich. "You- What?"

"I left Finn. I gave him back the ring and walked out the door. He- He just stood there. Didn't say a word. Didn't react at all. He's probably ___still _standing there." His voice hitched.

"Oh, Kurt…" Blaine's hand reached out, but he hesitated. He was the reason they'd split. Or at least part of it. This was his fault. Kurt was sitting on his couch, crying, and he was to blame.

But he couldn't just let him cry. So he wrapped Kurt up in his arms and drew him close. Kurt automatically buried his face in Blaine's neck, his legs curling up into Blaine's lap, his whole body wracked with sobs. Blaine pressed a soft, innocent kiss to the crown of his head and rocked him a bit, back and forth, back and forth.

"Ssh, it's gonna be okay," he murmured, praying he was telling the truth. "It's all gonna be okay. You're gonna be alright…"

"I th-thought I loved him," Kurt whimpered against his shoulder. "I- I thought we were supposed to be together. L-Like soulmates or something. God, I was so ___stupid_."

"No," Blaine said firmly. "You two just…weren't meant to be. I'm just sorry it had to end like this. I'm sorry you had to get hurt."

Kurt sniffled. "At least I didn't a-actually marry him."

Blaine agreed, but did not want to say as much. So he just sat there and whispered comforting things into his hair, assuring and apologizing and trying desperately not to get up and do a victory dance because ___Kurt's single he's not with that oaf anymore I have a shot_. And then guilt overwhelmed him; Kurt was heartbroken. He'd just left his boyfriend of five years. And yet there Blaine was, ecstatic and hopeful.

___I'm an awful person. I don't deserve Kurt._

"Thank you," Kurt finally murmured.

"For what?" ___All I've done is make you cheat on your fiancé and consequently lose him._

"For making me see how wrong we were together." Kurt's crying had died off; he adjusted himself more comfortably, molding himself to Blaine's side where he fit so perfectly. "For opening my eyes to all the problems we were having that I tried to ignore. I just- I wanted to be loved, Blaine. I wanted somebody I could come home to and be able to rant about my day to and give me a massage when I'm stressed and remember my birthday."

Blaine took a deep breath. "I could do that."

Kurt froze. "Wh-What?"

"I could do that," Blaine repeated. ___Too late to turn back now. _"I could be that guy. For you. If- If you want. It's just-" He sighed, running his fingers through his curls with his free hand. Kurt shifted a little to look him in the eyes. "I know we've only known each other for a little while, but I- I really like you. I want to get to know you even better. I want to be there at the end of the day for you with a cup of coffee and a listening ear. I want to kiss you awake and make sure you don't forget your lunch and take you to fancy restaurants and do cheesy things like write poems for you and I- I just-" He sighed. "I want to be with you. If you'll have me."

Kurt was quiet for an insufferably long time.

Finally, he sat up a little, his finger moving to trace Blaine's features delicately. The touch was instantaneously calming. "Okay," he murmured, offering a timid smile. "I- I'd like that. Getting to know each other better. That sounds good. But I- I'm warning you right now, I don't think I can handle getting in real deep with a guy right away."

"Yeah, of course, I get that," Blaine assured quickly. "Don't worry, I totally understand. You ___just _broke up with Finn. We're- I'm fine with going slow. In fact, that's perfect."

Kurt smiled and, after a short pause, pressed his lips lightly to Blaine's cheek. "I think ___you're _perfect."

…

**Woo, bit of a longer one today! :) Also, I got a lot of requests to continue last chapter's drabble, so keep a look-out for that...**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	21. Drabble 21: Butterfly Kisses

Blaine discovered Kurt's ultimate weakness about two months into their relationship.

They'd been lounging on the couch in Blaine's living room, his parents having left for the weekend on business and thus leaving the house free for them to do as they pleased. Which mostly just meant snuggling and kissing and feeding each other bites of whatever they had in arms reach – popcorn or grapes or the sandwich triangles that had been left over from one of his parents' dinner parties.

___The Devil Wears Prada _was playing on the widescreen before them, and Kurt was trying to watch it, although it was proving extraordinarily difficult when his boyfriend was kissing his neck lazily and tracing hypnotic patterns into his chest with a fingertip.

"Oh!"

Blaine paused at Kurt's sudden breathy gasp. "What? What is it?"

"N-Nothing. It's just- You- You're-" Kurt swallowed. "Your eyelashes. They- Uh, they felt nice. On my neck."

Blaine blinked at him. Then a sly smirk crossed his features. "Oh? Is that so?"

"What are you plannin- ___Oh_." Kurt's words melted away when Blaine leaned down and fluttered his eyelashes against Kurt's throat. "Jesus Blaine, that- oh my god. Keep doing that. I-…Nngh."

Blaine chuckled, kissing the same spot before moving lower, brushing his eyelashes against the sensitive skin and then kissing it lightly, repeating this pattern over and over until Kurt was completely boneless.

___I could definitely have some fun with this…_

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	22. Drabble 22: Hunter and Helper

Blaine groaned and attempted to sit up, clutching at his side when the movement induced shocks of pain. "Shit," he muttered through gritted teeth. He needed to get himself stitched up. He needed to get back to his car, and his medical supplies, and then find a motel and-

"Don't move," a sharp, clear voice said from nearby.

His head snapped up in surprise. A young man was striding towards him from the mouth of the alley, eyes bright blue and shining in the moonlight, dressed impressively well considering it was a Tuesday night and they were in a tiny town in Ohio. A panicked thought of _did he see what just happened? _ran through his mind, but before he could even contemplate getting to his feet, the stranger had reached him and was crouching down by his side.

"Let me see," he instructed, and he was so calm and authoritative that Blaine didn't think twice about lifting his hand away from his side, revealing the ripped, blood-stained patch of his shirt. The man – and wow, up close he really was quite gorgeous – carefully lifted up the fabric enough to take a look at the actual cut, which ran from his ribs all the way down to his hipbone, and he scrunched his nose up a little bit from the smell. Blaine almost grinned, but it quickly turned into a grimace when the stranger gently pulled the skin together.

"This needs treatment," he simply said, dropping Blaine's shirt and reaching around his back to help him to his feet. "Come on. I live a couple blocks down."

"Who- Why-?" Blaine spluttered.

"My name is Kurt Hummel, and you're obviously a hunter."

Blaine's eyes grew wide. "You- Does that mean you're-?"

Kurt snorted delicately. "Do I _look _like hunter material?" He indicated his outfit, and Blaine ducked his head. Of course he wasn't. Hunters didn't wear Alexander McQueen. "My dad was, for a while, after a demon kildled my mother when I was eight. I made him swear that he'd stop as soon as he did, though, and a few years ago he finally managed to track the bastard down, up in Vancouver. So now he's back to his old life of running a car shop and watching the sports channel."

Blaine turned to stare at him in awe. This was the first time he'd ever heard of a hunter ___retiring_. They usually died before they got to do so.

"What's your name, by the way?" Kurt added.

"I-" Blaine realized he'd never actually said. "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

Kurt nodded and offered a small smile and his hand. "Well come on, then, Blaine Anderson. Let's get you all sewed up."

…

**Supernatural AU, because hunter!Blaine would be so awesome. Don't deny it.**

**Two again today because the last one was so short. :)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	23. Drabble 23: Second Chance

**Written for a gifset of ghost!Blaine coming back to life.**

…

"But- But how?" he gasped. "You- How can you be- Is this really happening?"

Blaine laughed, still grinning widely. "Yes, this is really happening. I'm here. I'm living and breathing. The Elder Council apparently decided to give me a second chance. So, if you're willing to have me, I'd really like to spend my new life with you…"

Kurt's eyes blurred, but he managed a watery "yes, of course" before he pulled Blaine into his arms again. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to touching him, feeling the warm, solid skin against his own. He wanted to hold him close and never let go.

"This is so amazing," he murmured, torn between excited and shocked. "Now I can introduce you to my dad, and show you off to my friends, and hold your hand in public, and talk to you any time I want without having to worry about people thinking I'm crazy, and we can go on dates and kiss and-"

Blaine laughed and gently buried Kurt's face into his shoulder to stifle the rambling. "Ssh, Kurt, slow down. Remember, this is Lima. We're still going to have to be careful. But- Yeah, I want to do all of that with you, too."

Kurt's smile was impossibly wide as he pulled back and studied Blaine's face, the completely non-transparent face he knew so well. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Blaine asked, allowing Kurt to tug him along down the hallway.

"I really want to kiss you right now, and I can't very well do that here, now can I?"

Blaine laughed again, but had absolutely no complaints with this plan.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	24. Drabble 24: Take a Picture

"And right over here, Mr. Anderson, is your-"

"Whoa." The dark-haired photographer literally stopped in his tracks and backed up a couple paces, transfixed on the runway. Or, more precisely, the young man strutting down it like he owned it. The skin-tight silver jeans, the white jacket, the thin matching silver scarf, the red hat, it all fit so flawlessly on that tall, lean body. The way his hips swiveled with each step was unnervingly hypnotic; he could not stop watching.

"Uh, sir?" the assistant said hesitantly.

"Who is that?" he demanded, his gaze never wavering as the model posed at the end of the runway and listened to the woman's feedback, who stood there below him, arms crossed, obviously in charge.

"Him? Oh, that's Kurt Hummel. One of our best male models."

"He's ___gorgeous_…"

"Um, yeah," the assistant muttered, clearly uneasy by Blaine's sudden distraction. He was shifting on his feet, anxious to get Blaine set up and ready for the show in a couple short hours.

The man – Kurt – must have felt the eyes on him, because he glanced over and noticed Blaine's steady gaze. Blaine flushed a little, abashed to be caught, but he could not look away, and after a moment Kurt gave a tiny, almost unnoticeable smile.

"You the photographer?" Kurt called.

He nodded dumbly.

"Then take a picture of this – it'll last longer." And with that, he flicked the scarf over his shoulder and turned around, swinging his hips pointedly as he retreated down the runway so that Blaine could not help but stare. He sent Blaine a wink and then disappeared backstage.

Blaine very nearly groaned out loud.

…

**Because let's face it, Kurt would be such a saucy model. And Blaine would be totally starstruck.**

**Two because it's New Years and they're both short and _why not!_**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	25. Drabble 25: Marry Me

"Marry me."

Kurt pulled back just far enough to look Blaine in the eyes, his own wide with surprise.

"I want to be the guy you come home to at night, and complain about your coworkers to, and be the first one you call when you have big news, and kiss goodbye in the morning, and I want to spend the extra time cutting your sandwiches into triangles because I know you like them like that, and buy you your nonfat mochas even though I know I shouldn't be feeding your caffeine addiction, and argue with you when we pick out furniture and chinaware and wall paint, because I want to live with you and get our own place and you can have your own craft room for your fabrics and sketches and I want to be the one to convince to you come to bed when it's two o'clock in the morning and you're still at the sewing machine, and I want to buy the organic chicken even though it's more expensive because I know you like it better. I want to _be _with you. Forever. The good and the bad, the ups and the downs. I want it all."

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, both of them teary-eyed and grinning like idiots. "Then it's a good thing I want all of that, too."

…

**Oops. Forgot to post for a while. I'm a horrible person. *hides* Here have a handful of drabbles.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	26. Drabble 26: Abduction

"Blaine?"

No response.

"Blaine, come on. It's time for class?"

"I don't think I'll go today," the figure at the window said.

"Blaine," David sighed, his pleading gaze gone unnoticed. "Please. You can't keep doing this to yourself. He's been gone for over a month now-"

"Thirty-four days." Blaine did not turn around; his eyes remained fixed outside his window, scanning Dalton's courtyard, watching the students pass down below, searching for someone long gone. "I've been counting."

David pursed his lips. "Yes. Thirty-four days. Nobody's seen or heard anything. He's not-"

"_Don't_." Blaine finally faced his friend, his face drawn, the shadows under his eyes making his glower even darker, more dangerous. "Don't you _dare _say he's not coming back."

"But Blaine," David tried to reason gently, taking a step further into the room. "We've got no idea where he is, or if he's alright. We don't even know if he's still ali-"

"_Get out!_" Blaine roared. He grabbed the nearest object – a coffee cup that hadn't been touched in thirty-four days – and chucked it across the room blindly. It shattered against the opposite wall. David flinched, but he did not leave; this was not the first of Blaine's outbursts, after all. But this time, instead of shouting some more, Blaine's expression fell into one of horror, and his lips worked soundlessly around unspoken words as he moved forward and knelt amongst the ceramic pieces. David watched as the broken young man began to pick them up, one by one, and try to fit them back together again.

"This was Kurt's mug," he whispered, his voice cracking. "This was the last mug he used before he- before they-…" He took a deep, uneven breath. David saw a couple tears fall and mix with the stone-cold coffee now splashed across the wood floor. "He didn't even get to finish it."

David blinked back tears of his own as he crouched down and coaxed the sobbing boy into his arms. He'd given up on words of comfort long ago; there was nothing he could say. No hopeful news. No encouraging signs. Nothing. Most people had already accepted that they would never see Kurt again. Burt and Blaine were the only two still holding out. Most people had given up trying to reason with them by now.

So David just sat there, in a position far too familiar to him by now, and let his best friend cry into his shoulder, wishing, as he had for the past thirty-four days, that there was something he could do to help ease the pain slowly destroying Blaine from the inside.

But there was no remedy for a broken heart.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	27. Drabble 27: Secrecy

**Written for a gifset in which Kurt pretends to be straight.**

…

"Look at that faggot," Karofsky scoffed, nudging Kurt's shoulder and nearly making the shorter boy topple over. Kurt glanced over at Blaine, his gut twisting painfully at the word. _Don't talk about him like that._

"Yeah," was all he said, though.

"I like him," his 'girlfriend' Brittany piped up. "He's a unicorn."

"He's a disgusting fairy," Karofsky insisted harshly. "He never learns. No matter how many times we slushie him and rough him up, he continues to spread his damn gay fairy dust around the school."

Kurt pursed his lips. _Stop it. He's not disgusting. He's beautiful and brave and a thousand times a better man than you are. _He watched as Blaine shut his locker, an innocent little smile on his face as he turned and headed down the hallway in their direction.

"Come on, Boo, let's go to lunch," he muttered, grabbing Brittany's hand.

"Hey, cocksucker!" Karofsky called. Blaine looked up, and that adorable little smile quickly faded. His gaze flickered to Kurt, who gave him his most apologetic grimace.

"Really?" Blaine said cooly. "That's the best you can come up with?"

Karofsky glowered. "Don't test me, Hobbit. You're lucky I haven't killed you yet."

Something inside Kurt snapped, and before he knew what he was doing, his fist was slamming into Karofsky's jaw. The taller boy stumbled.

"What the _fuck_, Hummel?" he snapped.

"You won't lay a _finger _on him," Kurt hissed, hoping his absolute terror did not show through. He could feel Blaine move closer behind him, but did not risk a glance back.

Karofsky looked equally stunned and angry. "What the hell? You're stickin' up for this fag now?"

Kurt reached back, grabbed Blaine's hand firmly in his own, and tugged him forward. "This _fag _is my boyfriend. And if you threaten his life like that one more time I will go straight to Figgins and have your ass expelled faster than you can say 'fairy dust.' Do you understand me?"

Brittany grinned at the two of them. "You two are so cute. Does this mean I can go back to Santana?"

"Yeah," Kurt said distractedly. The blonde skipped off.

"You little shit," Karofsky growled. He took a step closer, fists curled, ready for a fight.

Blaine leaned forward and whispered in Kurt's ear. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"What?"

"_Run_."

And so they did.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	28. Drabble 28: Moving

**Written for a picture of an "Anderson Brothers Moving & Storage" sign.**

…

_"__Is that everything?" Blaine asked his brother._

"Yep!" Cooper said cheerfully. "Hope you two enjoy the apartment," he added to the man and woman standing amongst the unpacked furniture and cardboard boxes.

"Oh, I'm sure we will!" the girl, Rachel, chirped.

"Yes, thank you very much," Kurt smiled. Blaine tried to control his grin; this guy was hot. And had made it clear that he and Rachel were most definitely not a couple. _He's gay, right? Please say he's gay._

"My- Our pleasure," Blaine said, hoping to sound nonchalant despite the slight flushing of his cheeks.

"We should be heading out now." Cooper clapped him heartily on the shoulder. It was only when they reached their moving truck that he nudged his little brother and raised an expectant eyebrow. "So? Kurt?"

Blaine crossed his arms. "What about him?"

"Oh come on. You're my _brother_; you don't think I can't recognize when you've got a mad crush on someone?"

The tips of his ears turned red, and he pointedly avoided Cooper's gaze. "I- I have no idea what you're talking about. Just drive."

Cooper sighed dramatically, but obeyed. "He was pretty cute," he said after a while.

"Coop!"

"Alright, fine, I'll drop it! Sheesh." He pouted but did as he promised and remained quiet for the rest of the drive. It was only when they were pulling into the driveway that he spoke again.

"Oh, one last thing…" He slammed the door and began to walk away, throwing back cheerfully over his shoulder, "I left a side-table in the truck. Guess you'll have to go return it tomorrow."

"You- I- _Cooper!_"

—

Kurt answered the knock on the door, since Rachel was still in her room getting dressed for the day. _New neighbors, perhaps? Welcoming us to the complex?_

The man on the other side of the door, however, was most definitely not a stranger. "Hi," Blaine said, clearly a little nervous, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt's pockets. "I- I hope I didn't wake you up."

"I-…" Kurt blinked dumbly at him. _Blaine. Blaine the mover. Blaine the very cute mover I thought I'd never see again is here. Do I have morning breath? _"No!" he finally got out. "No, I was up. Hi. Um, not to be rude or anything but, uh, what exactly are you doing here? Not that it isn't nice to see you and all, but…"

"Well, I'm afraid we- Cooper accidentally left this side-table in our truck yesterday." Blaine gestured to the small brown piece of furniture beside him Kurt hadn't noticed. "So I came to return it, and apologize for him."

"Oh!" Kurt laughed. "So _that's _what happened with it. Rachel was absolutely convinced she left it back in her dorm room. She'll be happy to know it's not lost after all." He smiled at Blaine. "Thank you."

Blaine grinned back. There was a pause, before he shook himself. "Um, so, yeah. Here." He picked it up. "Do you want me to-?"

"Yeah. Just- Right there, beside the couch, please. Thanks. That's perfect." He let himself admire Blaine's features from behind as the mover carried the table inside and set it down in accordance to Kurt's instructions. He turned to leave, and Kurt blurted, "Do you want to stay for coffee?"

Blaine stared at him, taken aback. "Really?"

"Yeah," Kurt shrugged. "As a- a thank you. For returning the side-table."

The curly-haired young man beamed at him, and butterflies erupted in Kurt's stomach. "I'd love to. Thanks! That's really kind of you."

"My pleasure. Have a seat, I'll put on a fresh pot."

Blaine ended up staying for the rest of the morning, and then taking Kurt out for lunch, and then going to a movie together. And when he arrived back home, he promptly found Cooper and thanked him profusely. The older man laughed and demanded details, which Blaine gave with pleasure, and Cooper just listened and nodded and smiled and thought, _damn I'm good_.

…

**Okay, last one for today. Sorry again about the delay!**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	29. Drabble 29: The Wedding Planner

_"Lavender or lilac."_

Blaine blinked up at the young man. "I- Um, sorry, what?" He'd just come over to give Kurt his grande nonfat mocha, his regular table cluttered as ever with binders and color strips and notes. The wedding planner looked harried, although that was nothing new.

"Lavender or lilac," Kurt repeated, holding up the two shades of purple, that familiar wild look in his eyes that indicated to Blaine he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. He made a quick mental note to prepare a second cup of coffee to go for when Kurt had to leave. "I can't decide. I've been staring at these different variations for so long I'm fairly certain I'm going to be seeing in nothing but shades of purple for the rest of the day. Just- please. Choose one."

"Uh, lilac, I guess."

"Lilac it is." He slapped it down on the table decisively and grabbed his coffee cup, taking a long drag and grimacing when he scalded his tongue, just like he always did when he was too eager to wait for it to cool off a bit first.

"You alright?" Blaine asked.

Kurt sighed heavily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed. Georgia is literally the most indecisive woman I've ever had to work with. And her partner Rebecca is only marginally better. I'm surprised they settle on ___anything _between the two of them."

Blaine made a sound of sympathy. "Want some biscotti to keep you going?"

"That sounds lovely, actually, yeah."

"Be right back."

He returned from behind the counter with a small basket of the lemon biscotti and set it down in front of Kurt, on top of a seating arrangement chart that had so many arrows drawn on it it might just as well have been a doodle of a spiderweb. "Here. Eat up."

"Join me?" Kurt offered, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice.

"I-" ___I'd love to_, he wanted to say. But he was still technically on duty.

"Come on, there's nobody here," Kurt said, seeming to read his mind. And, sure enough, the only other customers at the moment were the old couple in the back sipping at their tea and doing a crossword together. "If someone comes in, you can go."

"Alright," Blaine conceded, slipping into the chair opposite and grabbing one of the biscotti. "One of these days you're going to get me fired."

Kurt laughed, and nudged his foot under the table with his own. "Oh ___please_, I'm the one singlehandedly keeping this place in business!"

"That's…probably true, actually." Blaine smiled, and Kurt smiled back, nibbling adorably at his biscotti. "I suppose I should really be thanking you."

"I'm waiting," Kurt teased.

Blaine reached across the table and grabbed one of Kurt's hands in both of his own. "Kurt Hummel," he said dramatically, attempting to hold back his laughter. "I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your insatiable caffeine addiction."

They both burst into laughter. "Not quite what I had in mind, but I'll take it," Kurt giggled.

Neither of them acknowledged the fact that Blaine did not let go of Kurt's hand, even after his 'thank you' was over. Because neither of them minded in the least.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	30. Drabble 30: Closet Monster

"Daddy?"

Blaine awoke abruptly to his daughter's timid voice. "Eliza? It's–" he checked his alarm clock – "nearly midnight. What's wrong?"

"I woke up to go to the bathroom, and now I can't go back to sleep because there's a monster in my closet," the four-year-old girl informed him, clutching her stuffed elephant so tightly she was practically flattening it to her chest.

Blaine chuckled to himself and rubbed his eyes. "A monster in your closet, you say?"

She nodded fervently.

"Alright. I'll deal with it. Don't you worry, sweetie."

He dragged himself out of bed and shuffled down the hallway to Eliza's room, his daughter's small hand clutched firmly in his own. Kurt was out of town for the weekend, not due to return until the next morning, which meant closet monster duties fell to him.

As soon as they entered the room, Eliza scampered over to her bed and buried herself under the blankets so that only her eyes were peeking out, watching Blaine as he crossed to the small closet opposite the bed. He made a show of opening the folding doors slowly, sticking his head in, glancing around. Then he turned on the light and glanced back at his daughter. "Eliza? Come here, please."

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"Yes. I promise. Come on."

She pushed back the blankets and padded over to his side, hesitating as she drew up next to him. He placed a reassuring hand on the top of her head, stroking those gorgeous brown curls of hers. "See, sweetie? There's nothing to be afraid of."

"No! I heard noises!" she insisted, stamping her little foot and then drawing up against Blaine's leg as if scared the thud would summon the closet monster. Blaine held back his laughter.

"It was just the neighbors. Some of them have much later bedtimes than you, and they share this wall. Maybe they accidentally bumped against it when they were going to bed themselves."

"Oh," she said quietly. "Okay then…You ___promise _there's no monster?"

This time Blaine did laugh. "I promise." He crouched down so that he was at eye level with her and brushed back her hair from her face. "And even if there was, I would never let it harm you. Dad and I will always protect you. Especially from the worst monster of all…"

Her blue eyes – Kurt's eyes – grew wide. "What monster is that?" she asked seriously.

"The fashion monster!" Blaine let out a playful snarl and threw a scarf around her. She squealed and yanked it off, but her shrieks of fear turned into peels of laughter when he began to tickle her.

"Not fair, Daddy!" she giggled.

He drew her into his lap, and they sat there on the floor of the closet, surrounded by tiny shoes and colorful clothing. "Still scared of the closet monster, Eliza?"

She shook her head, eyes already drooping. "No. You scared him off. Thank you, Daddy."

Blaine kissed her forehead. "You're very welcome, sweetie."

When Kurt arrived home the next morning from his business trip, he found his husband and daughter curled up in Eliza's tiny closet, fast asleep. He decided not to question it.

…

**afg;gfkjdhg all the daddy!Klaine feels.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	31. Drabble 31: Imaginary

**Written for a gifset in which Kurt makes up Blaine in his head.**

…

"Stop it!" Kurt practically shouted, nearly overturning his chair as he leapt to his feet. "I was finally over you! I'd finally come to terms with the fact you didn't exist. How- Why can't you just-"

He gave up on words and barreled from the room, brushing passed the baffled choir teacher and ignoring the calls from his friends to come back. He ran blindly; he had to get away. ___Am I going crazy? What's going on? Does this mean he's real after all? How-_

"Kurt!"

The voice – the one that haunted his dreams – made him skid to a stop and whirl around. Blaine was chasing him down the hallway.

"Kurt, please, wait," Blaine said, panting slightly as he slowed to a stop a few feet away. "Why'd you run out? I thought- I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Happy to- Blaine, I've spent the last two months being told by literally everybody I know that you're just a figment of my imagination. Now suddenly you just- and they can all see you and- oh god, I've completely lost it, haven't I?" He slumped against the lockers and slid down into a ball on the floor.

"Kurt…" Blaine said again, his voice so gentle and familiar it hurt. He crouched down beside Kurt and, after a moment, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kurt, I'm so sorry. Please, just let me explain. I ___am _real. I swear. I- A lot of things happened. Two months ago. It- I don't even know where to start. Memories had to be wiped and I had to disappear and you- I'm so sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry for everything…"

Kurt frowned up at him, sniffling and willing his tears not to fall. "What…I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Blaine sighed heavily. "This is going to take a long time to explain. I suggest we move somewhere more comfortable than the floor."

He stood and offered Kurt his hand, and Kurt took it without hesitation.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	32. Drabble 32: Puppy Snuggles

"Blaine, no! Get off my bed," Kurt scolded the puppy currently scuttling around atop his duvet.

Blaine's ears drooped and he gave Kurt the most pleading, irresistible eyes Kurt had ever seen.

"Fine," Kurt sighed. Immediately, Blaine perked up, his tail wagging madly and his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he bounded up towards the pillows. Kurt pulled back the blankets and slid into bed, careful not to accidentally jostle the puppy right off onto the floor. The small dog yipped happily and pawed at Kurt's shoulder. "What? What is it?"

Blaine stood up on his hindlegs, balanced his front paws on Kurt's chest, and licked his chin.

"You silly cutie," Kurt couldn't help but laugh, reaching over to switch off his light before snuggling down into his pillows and opening his arms to Blaine, who instantly curled up next to him, tail wagging. Kurt stroked his floppy ears a few times, and whispered into his fur, "G'night, Blainey."

Blaine gave a tiny yip in return, and licked his chin again.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	33. Drabble 33: Synchronized Swimming

"Kurt, we should go to the synchronized swimming competition tonight."

The boy in question glanced over from his locker at his best friend in utter bemusement, eyebrows drawn, eyes wide. "I beg your pardon?"

"There's a competition tonight!" Mercedes reiterated patiently, closing her own locker and adjusting the straps of her backpack as she turned to him. "We should go!"

"I didn't even realize McKinley _had_ a synchronized swim team," Kurt muttered, exchanging his Physics textbook for his AP Literature binder. He was busy enough as it was – he had a paper due tomorrow in Economics, and a Calculus test to study for, and his shift at the garage to get through. He didn't have time to go cheer on a bunch of girls and boys splashing around in the water and forming shapes with their bodies while simultaneously trying to stay afloat. If he wanted to watch people bend themselves into patterns, he would just watch the Cheerios practice.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Yes you did," she accused.

"You just want to go because Sam's on the team now," he pointed out, shutting his locker and automatically linking elbows with her as they made their way down the hallway towards their next class, careful to avoid the couple of ice hockey thugs off to the side of the corridor, picking on that annoying blogger, Jacob something-or-other. "Why can't you go by yourself?"

"Oh come on, I don't want to have to sit by myself! Pretty please?" she begged. "I'll take you shopping this weekend to make up for it…?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically, before consenting. "Alright, ___fine_, I'll go." He would just have to pull another all-nighter. Or blow off studying. Really, how important was Calculus, after all? When he was a famous Broadway star or fashion designer, nobody would be asking him to find the integral of a function.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" she gushed, and her excitement almost made his lost evening worth it. "Pick me up at six, alright? It'll be fun, I promise!"

"Uh-huh."

She kissed him on the cheek before hurrying off to Trigonometry, leaving Kurt to endure AP Lit alone. He heaved another great sigh. ___How on Earth will this be _fun___, Mercedes?_

…

They arrived far too early, in Kurt's opinion. The stands were – predictably – not very packed, and most of the audience seemed to be family and friends of the swimmers. There was no snack stand like at the football games. Kurt had thought ahead and brought a cushion so he wouldn't have to sit on those hard, numbing bleachers for hours, and Mercedes had a tupperware of tots in her purse in case they got hungry.

"Do we know anybody besides Sam on the team?" he asked as they chose seats near the front.

"Um, there's that tall kid, Steven, he's my seat partner in Chem. And…Jill! Isn't she in your French class? And, uh-"

"So nobody important."

She smiled guilty. "No, nobody we really hang out with, no." Spotting his melancholic expression, she quickly added, "But it'll still be cool! Some of the teams are really talented…I think we've got a good shot, though."

"Are you just saying that?"

"Possibly."

He finally cracked a smile. Submitting to the fact that he would be stuck there for the next couple of hours, he turned to watch the teams warm up, some in the water, some on the sidelines. It was easy to spot McKinley's red uniforms and Sam's bleached-blond hair.

But then a different head of hair distracted him.

Dark curls, sleeked back from the water, were emerging from the pool. The boy was shorter than Sam, but strong. He wore McKinley's uniform, which clung to his chest enough to show off his toned muscles and tiny waist. He shook his head and water droplets flew everywhere.

"Who is ___he_?" he asked, embarrassed when his voice came out high and breathy.

"Huh? Who?"

Kurt gestured with his chin over to where the dark-haired boy was talking to Jill.

"Oh, him? He's that new kid on the team. Brandon, or Blake, or…Blaine! That was it. Blaine. He's a year below us; just joined the team last week. I wonder if he's actually going to compete tonight…"

"How have I never noticed him before?" Kurt demanded.

"Well, he only transferred here a couple weeks ago," shrugged Mercedes, pulling out her tots and popping one into her mouth. "Why are you so curious?" A sly smile spread across her face. "Oh my god, do you think he's cute?"

"What? I- No!" he blabbered, turning away to hide his blush.

"He's got some nice arms," she said innocently. Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hands, and she laughed. "Alright, alright, I'll stop."

Just as he looked up, though, the new kid – Blaine – caught his eye, and Kurt froze. He stopped breathing; couldn't look away from that bright hazel gaze.

Blaine flashed him a small smile, and then turned to talk with the coach.

Suddenly, synchronized swimming became Kurt's number one favorite sport.

…

**Two because the last one was shooooort. :)**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	34. Drabble 34: R(T)W Drabble

**Written for a photoset of Chris Colfer, which my wife claimed reminded her of my model!Kurt fic Run (This) Way.**

…

"You did an amazing job today," Blaine grinned, handing Kurt his coat after his photoshoot for _Teen Vogue_ finally ended. "I mean, you always do amazing, but today in particular."

Kurt laughed. "Glad you thought so. You sure it wasn't too…I don't know, posed? I know that doesn't make sense since they ___were _poses, but-"

"No, I get it," Blaine assured, sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry, it seemed very casual to me. Much more playful than sultry."

Kurt paused just before exiting the building and turned to face Blaine, a glint in his eye. "Well, when we get back to the apartment, perhaps I can show you my sultry side as well…" he murmured, tracing a fingertip down Blaine's jaw.

Blaine shuddered and tried to remember how to breathe. "I- Yeah. Please."

Kurt was already halfway out the door – his hips swinging particularly hypnotically in those skin-tight black pants – by the time Blaine regained the ability to move again.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	35. Drabble 35: Playful

"Blaine!" Kurt called, crossing his arms against the chill of the evening as he stood on the porch and watched his husband run around in the snowy lawn with Finn. "Come in before you catch a cold! I made hot chocolate."

Blaine grinned, tossed the football to his brother-in-law, and jogged over. He lunged up the stairs and caught Kurt up in his arms, promptly pressing kisses to his husband's lips, nose, cheeks.

"Blaine!" Kurt squealed, torn between laughter and scolding. "Stop it, you're freezing! Oh my god, come on, get inside, you need to warm up."

"I have a better way to get warm," Blaine smirked.

Kurt's mouth fell open. "Blaine," he hissed, chastising. "What are you-?"

He broke off with a shout of surprise as Blaine snuck his frigid fingers under Kurt's sweater, pressing them to the small of Kurt's back. He let out a peel of laughter and leapt off the porch to avoid Kurt's wrath.

"Blaine Anderson-Hummel, you get back here this minute!" Kurt shrieked, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he took off through the snow after his husband, Finn watching them barrel by in amusement.

…

**Playful married cutie-pies *u***

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	36. Drabble 36: Killer

**Written for a gifset of serialkiller!Blaine and soulmate!Klaine.**

…

"It's okay," Blaine assured with a smile. "I'll show you the ropes."

"I- I've never killed someone before," Kurt pointed out, biting his bottom lip as he gazed ahead out the windshield. Blaine glanced over at him before returning his eyes to the road.

"Are you…Do you regret coming with me?" His voice was quiet; the confidence was gone. "I- If you're having second thoughts I can let you go home. I'm not going to make you come with me against your will. I'm not a hostage-taking kind of guy."

"No, you're just a murdering kind of guy." It had meant to come out as a joke, but it sounded more accusatory, even scared.

Blaine was silent.

"I need to be able to trust you, Blaine," Kurt finally said, turning to face Blaine, a feat not easily done with a seatbelt on. "I need to know you're not going to slit my throat in the middle of the night. I need to know you won't put me in danger."

Blaine heaved a great sigh that seemed to fill the entire car. "I…can't promise that last one," he confessed in a whisper. "I can promise you I'd never kill you – I'd have to be a complete lunatic to want to murder my soulmate, which I swear I'm not – but I can't necessarily promise you won't be in danger. My line of work isn't exactly a desk job. Things might get messy."

Kurt nodded, almost to himself.

"But I swear, I'll protect you with my life," Blaine added vehemently, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe."

"I know," Kurt murmured, a smile finally gracing his face. He sighed again, and then reached out and took Blaine's right hand and held it in his lap between both of his own, stroking over the small, faint scars on his palm. _K H_. He looked at the_B A _on his own palm before asking, "What's your last name, Blaine? I don't think you ever told me."

Blaine laughed. "Anderson. Blaine Anderson. I haven't used it in a long time…"

Kurt smiled and kissed his initials on Blaine's hand. "Well, Blaine Anderson, it looks like you're stuck with me. I finally found my soulmate; I'm not about to let you go."

Blaine grinned over at him and murmured, "We'd better get you a gun, then."

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	37. Drabble 37: Taken

Blaine came with Kurt to New York to help him unpack and settle in. The long drive was grueling, but at least he got to extend his time with Kurt. Prolong the inevitable. He knew the drive back to Lima the next day would be murder, but it was worth it. He'd do anything for one more night with Kurt.

"Oh my god, I'm wiped," the countertenor groaned, tossing himself onto the just-made bed. It was getting dark; they'd arrived in the late afternoon and had immediately gotten to work on getting Kurt settled, hauling boxes up to his dorm room and unpacking the most important things. It helped that Kurt's roommate wasn't set to arrive for a couple of days; it would have been utterly chaotic to try and have both of them move in at the same time. "Thank you so much for helping, Blaine…"

"My pleasure," he assured with a smile from where he stood atop the desk, putting up Kurt's _Vogue_ cover collage.

Kurt watched him for a moment from the bed. "Let's go," he said suddenly, sitting up.

"Huh?"

"Let's get some coffee." Kurt stood, looking eager. "It'll be a perfect chance to find a local coffee shop! Nothing will ever be as good as the Lima Bean, of course, but I'll need _somewhere _to get my caffeine fix…"

Blaine laughed. "Alright, alright. Sounds good to me." Kurt held out a hand and helped him step down off the desk. They headed out, hands clasped, grinning because _we can do this now. We can walk down the street hand-in-hand and nobody will give us weird looks or shout insults at us or throw slushies in our faces_. The freedom was exhilarating. Blaine couldn't wait to join Kurt here in New York. One year seemed like a lifetime.

They found a cute little coffeehouse a couple blocks down. It wasn't too crowded – most people were out at dinner right now – so they decided to give it a go. There was only one worker behind the counter – a tall, dark-haired man. Probably a college student by the looks of him. Easy smile, bright green eyes.

Eyes that were roaming over Kurt like a predator with its prey.

"Hi!" Kurt greeted, seemingly unaware he was being checked out. Blaine felt something hot and angry flare up in his chest. _Not this again. Not another Chandler situation. Not already. He hasn't even been here five hours! Is this how it's going to be? Every cute guy in the entire city is going to fall at Kurt's feet while I'm stuck in Ohio? _"Can I get a grande nonfat mocha and a medium drip, please?"

"Sure thing, cutie," the barista grinned, winking, eyes flickering once more down Kurt's body.

Kurt blinked, taken back at being addressed as such, and Blaine knew he finally realized what was happening. Before Blaine could say anything, though – before he could even think of something to say that wasn't _please god no _– Kurt smiled politely and said, "Sorry, I'm taken. This is my boyfriend."

Just like that. No hesitation. No real apology in his tone. Just stating a fact. My name's Kurt, I love to sing, I'm unavailable.

"Oh. Sorry man, didn't realize." The barista flashed Blaine an apologetic smile before ringing them up and moving to make their drinks.

"Blaine? Honey, you okay? You look like you're in shock…" Kurt tapped Blaine's chin with his finger, and Blaine realized that his jaw had dropped sometime during that transaction.

"I- Yeah, I'm fine." A bright smile spread across his face. "I'm great, actually!"

Kurt gave him that patented I'm-dating-a-lunatic smile. "Alright. You sure?"

"I just- I really love you, Kurt. You know that, right?"

The brunette stared at him. "Of course I do," he said, a startled laugh bubbling out of him just as the barista called out their drink orders. "And you know I love you too."

"I know." Blaine grabbed his coffee, thanked the dark-haired man behind the counter, and slipped his arm around Kurt's waist as they headed for the door.

_Maybe one year won't be so long after all…_

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	38. Drabble 38: Socks

"Blaine, I don't think we can be together anymore."

Blaine's head jerked up, eyes wide. The words coming out of Kurt's mouth did not make any sense; what had changed? Blaine frantically replayed the last few days over in his mind, desperately searching for a reason for this unexpected revelation. He could come up with nothing; apart from a very minor spat over who left the window open one night (it ended up actually being Rachel's doing), they hadn't fought at all.

It felt like his chest was being cleaved in two; like the lights were going out in the world, like the sun stopped being warm, like his dreams of their future together were being set aflame before his very eyes. Everything hurt. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Wh- What?" he spluttered.

"I just…" Kurt pulled something from his coat pocket. "I don't know if I could date someone who owned a pair of socks this painfully hideous."

And then his face split into a smile, and it was like the sunlight breaking through the clouds, and Blaine literally teared up in relief. Kurt was holding out those horrendous Christmas-themed toe socks Cooper had bought him two years ago and grinning at Blaine like he'd just pulled off the cleverest little scheme.

Blaine lunged from the couch and enveloped his boyfriend in his arms, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and breathing in his familiar scent.

"Jesus christ, Kurt, don't _ever _do that to me again," he muttered into his skin, his voice unabashedly broken.

Kurt began to laugh. Quietly, at first – just the slightest shaking of his frame – but he got louder.

"It's not funny!" Blaine insisted, but then he too began to laugh, and pretty soon the the two of them were doubled-over, clutching their sides and brushing aside tears of mirth, the offensive pair of Christmas socks sprawled on the floor at their feet.

"That was cruel," Blaine pretended the pout as soon as they'd calmed down.

"Oh please." Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled Blaine in for a searing kiss. "I've told you a thousand times – I'm never saying goodbye to you."

Blaine beamed up at him. "Even if I own the world's most hideous pair of toe socks?"

Kurt glanced down at the socks in question, pursing his lips to hold back his laughter. "Even if you own the world's most hideous pair of toe socks."

"Well, if that's not true love, I don't know what is!" Blaine teased.

Kurt's only response was to lean back in for another kiss.

…

**Written when we first got the break-up spoilers and I was in denial.**

**Oh who am I kidding, I'm still in denial.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	39. Drabble 39: Memory Shrine

Blaine had a collection, a 'memory shrine' as his friends liked to call it. To anybody else, it would appear to be nothing more than a small collection of seemingly random things. To Blaine, however, they were symbolic, rife with nostalgia.

There was an empty coffee cup from the Lima Bean, where the basis of his and Kurt's relationship had really developed; a replica of the gumwrapper ring he'd given Kurt for their first Christmas together (the original was in New York with Kurt on his nightstand); the letter collage spelling out 'courage' Kurt had made shortly after their first meeting, which he'd saved when Kurt was cleaning out his locker at the end of the school year; yellow and red paper-mache roses to represent the bouquet Kurt had surprised him with at school during auditions for West Side Story; and of course, Margaret Thatcher Dog, the stuffed animal Kurt had given Blaine to try and cheer him up during the stress-filled week of his brother's visit to McKinley.

Over the years, as Blaine moved into the dorms, and then a crappy little apartment with Kurt, and then a better one when his grandfather passed away and he inherited a mini-fortune, that collection traveled with him, and grew. The playbill of the first Broadway show they saw together was added, as was Kurt's belly button ring from his junior year when he'd been under so much stress he'd gone out and gotten pierced, only to freak out worrying Blaine wouldn't like it (he'd loved it, in fact, but was perfectly content when Kurt let it close up a month later).

They were memories. Odds and ends that reminded him of his life with Kurt through all those years.

"One day soon," Kurt confessed quietly on a warm summer's night as they lay tangled atop the blankets under the ceiling fan, "I'm hoping to add an engagement ring to that memory shrine of yours."

Blaine couldn't wait for that day to come.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	40. Drabble 40: Mind Reader

**Written for a gifset in which Kurt can read minds. (Set in Kurt's bedroom when Blaine is teaching him how to do sexy faces.)**

…

"I think we need to talk."

Blaine frowned, bemused. "I- Okay?" _This is getting a little unnerving. It's almost like he can-_

"Read your mind?" Kurt finished for him.

Blaine's mouth fell open; his eyes widened; his heart skipped a beat. _Fuck. What? No way. Oh my god, seriously? This whole time? He's heard everything? He's seen-? Oh god._

Kurt nodded slowly. "Yeah. Since- For as long as I can remember, I've been able to hear people's thoughts. It can be really overwhelming at times. And normally I would never even dream of telling someone, but I think in this case it's best that I just come clean."

The dark-haired boy swallowed and took a deep breath. "So…Can- Is there a way for you to turn it off, maybe?" _Please?_

"No," the countertenor apologized. "I wish. It would make everything a lot quieter in my head. Don't worry, I don't intentionally listen in to your thoughts or anything. But when you're the only one in the room, and those thoughts are about- about _me_…"

_Oh for the love of god. _He dropped his gaze to the floor, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. _So he knows. He's known this whole time. Fuck, I thought such inappropriate things, too! Crap, he can still hear me. Stop it. No. Think of something else. Unicorns!_

Kurt snorted. "Unicorns?"

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I didn't- You know I'd never…" _Please don't hate me. We can be friends. I'll stop. Please._

Kurt waited until Blaine glanced back up at him to let the sly little smile spread across his face. "I…I like you too, you know. I'd be very hypocritical if I told you to stop thinking those thoughts…"

Blaine's face went slack. _Seriously? He- You like me? Even after all those things you've heard? Oh fuck, this means you heard me yesterday during practice when-_

"Yes," Kurt cut in, blushing something fierce. "I- Yes. I remember that very clearly, thank you."

The blush that heated up Blaine's cheeks rivaled his. "Sorry." _Sorry._

Kurt smiled at him sympathetically. "It may take a little work, but I think…I want this to work. I want us to try. If- If you're okay with me being able to, y'know…I mean, I try not to be invasive when at all possible, but I obviously can't block it all out, so there's probably going to be a lot of awkward situations in the future but-"

_I love you._

"I-" Blaine spluttered, nearly falling backwards off the chair as Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh god, I'm- I meant, yes, I want to try too! I, uh." _Smooth_.

Kurt broke into a brilliant grin. "Great. That makes two of us then."

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	41. Drabble 41: I'm Home

Blaine was beginning to seriously rethink his decision to go to the airport alone. Burt had wanted to come of course, along with Carole and Finn, but he had managed to convince them to let him pick Kurt up himself, just so long as he swore to bring Kurt straight home. He wanted to be the first to see his boyfriend. Kurt had been so busy with finals that Blaine hadn't been able to see him (even over Skype) in three weeks. It was torture.

Now, as he stood in the baggage claim alone, waiting for Kurt to disembark from his plane, nerves fluttered in his stomach. _What if he doesn't want to see me first. What if he wanted to have his dad pick him up. Has he changed at all since I last saw him? He's been sort of distant lately - maybe it was intentional? Oh god, what if he's met someone else in New York and-_

"Blaine."

The voice, so clear and high and musical and familiar, wrenched him from his internal fretting. His head jerked up and he immediately locked his gaze on his boyfriend, who was smiling softly at him with that special look in his eyes, the one reserved solely for Blaine. Without words, he managed to convey so much – _I missed you, I'm glad to see you, I love you._

He didn't think. He just let out a strangled laugh and flung himself into Kurt's arms. He didn't care who saw; he needed Kurt close, _now_. Their bodies were pressed up against one another, his arms locked around Kurt's neck, his face buried into his shoulder and his chest heaving with repressed sobs. Kurt laughed and pressed a smiling kiss to Blaine's hair, his fingers carding through the ungelled part at the back of his neck. His favorite spot.

"I'm home," Kurt murmured into his curls. "I'm home…"

Blaine grinned against the side of his neck. "Welcome home, baby."

…

**Waaah this was how it was supposed to happen!**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	42. Drabble 42: This is Crazy (cont)

**You asked for more of the Presidential AU, so here it is!**

…

They met up for coffee.

Well, to be more specific, Blaine met up with Kurt and a small squad of security.

"Wow," Blaine chuckled quietly as they got into line. "I see what you mean. Do they seriously follow you wherever you go?"

"Everywhere," Kurt nodded, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't ___believe _how paranoid my dad is these days. He's absolutely convinced I'm going to get kidnapped."

"Well, I mean, I get where his concern is coming from, but…I'm probably the least-threatening person alive." He gave Kurt big, exaggerated puppy-eyes, grinning when it made Kurt laugh.

"Honestly, I think my dad just sent them this time so they could report back to him on my date," he chuckled.

Blaine blanched. _'____My dad.' They're going to report back to Burt Hummel. The president. Oh my god. I will never get used to that._

Kurt must have noticed his unease, because he reached out and linked their arms together. "Hey, breathe. You're doing fine. Relax."

Blaine swallowed thickly and nodded.

They stepped up to the counter, and the bored-looking girl at the cash register froze. "You-" she gasped. "Holy shit! I- I mean-"

Kurt smiled politely at her. "I'll have a grande nonfat mocha, please, and-" He turned to Blaine. "What would you like?"

"Oh! Uh, a medium drip, please," he offered. "But I- I can pay. ___I _asked ___you _out, after all."

Kurt laughed again, already pulling out his wallet. "You can pay next time, then. This time it's on me."

___Next time. Oh. Yeah, okay. I can do that._

They found a table near the back, out of sight from most of the other patrons, and his security took up positions around the edges of the coffee shop. Blaine did his best to ignore them. He was nervous enough as it was just going on a date with such a beautiful young man; he didn't need the added stress of being watched, judged by people who would be reporting back to the President of the United States.

"Blaine," Kurt chuckled, reaching out to place his hand over Blaine's. "You look like you're about to start hyperventilating."

"Sorry. It's just- You're- Are they seriously just going to watch us the entire time?"

Kurt got a playful glint in his eyes. "I mean, we can always try and ditch them…"

Blaine's jaw dropped. ___Oh god. He's gonna get the National Security set on my ass._

But later that day, somewhere between the coffee shop and the movie theater, they did end up managing to give Kurt's guard the slip, and Blaine couldn't bring himself to regret it. Especially since Kurt took advantage of the brief privacy to press a chaste, coffee-tinted kiss to his lips.

…

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	43. Drabble 43: Memories

Everything reminded Kurt of Blaine. Even though he could no longer be there in person, he still somehow managed to appear in every part of Kurt's life. Kurt would open his closet to choose an outfit and see the jacket he'd worn when he first met Blaine, the vest he'd worn when Blaine surprised him with his transfer to McKinley, the jeans he'd worn the night they made love for the first time, the suit he'd worn during their fight in Ms. Pillsbury's office. He couldn't even handle looking at his old Dalton uniform; he'd packed that up in a box and hidden it high up on the shelves. Not that it helped. Nearly every other article of clothing he owned held some sort of memory of Blaine. Of what they'd had. And lost.

He would be talking with someone, and they'd make a comment that he knew Blaine would have wanted to respond to. He could practically hear Blaine in his head, could guess what he would have said had he still been alive. Or somebody would say something he remembered Blaine once saying too. He went to get coffee with Rachel during a snowy afternoon and she'd said "I think it's adorable" in response to one of Kurt's designs, and then had to try and calm him down when he burst into unexplainable tears and began muttering about 'candles' and 'stage fright.'

No matter how many years passed, Kurt's memories of Blaine never faded.

Gradually, though, over time, Kurt began to return to his old self. It took four weeks to remember how to smile; five to laugh. He started singing in the shower again after three months, and baking, and drinking coffee again, although he now ordered a medium drip instead of a mocha. (His friends noticed, but never dared comment.) A year after the accident, he was able to look at pictures of the two of them without breaking down. Rachel was a life-saver; she let him be when he was having an 'episode,' and she sat with him and comforted him on the anniversaries of their various firsts, and she went with him to visit Blaine's grave every year on November 28th.

_Blaine would want me to be happy_, was the only thing keeping him going most days.

And most days, that was enough.

…

**I'm drowning in tears. I apologize for everything ever.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	44. Drabble 44: The Ring

Kurt doesn't wear it often; it's too fragile, too delicate, too precious. It sits in its original box, open on his bedside table, and every so often when he's feeling down or missing Blaine, Kurt will delicately pick it up and slip it onto his finger. It's not a classy ring by any means – it's made out of gum wrappers for heaven's sake – but to Kurt, it's the most beautiful, perfect ring in the whole world, simply because Blaine had made it with his own two hands with Kurt in mind.

Three years later, Kurt gave Blaine a ring, too.

Let's just say this one wasn't made of gum wrappers.

…

**This is so short you can't even really call it a drabble. Ssh go with it.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


	45. Drabble 45: Book Love

That night, when Kurt arrived home, for the first time in what seemed like years, there was a smile hovering on his lips that lingered from his study date with Blaine.

"Hey, kiddo," Burt greeted from his spot in the living room. He paused, noticing his son's expression, and added, "How's your science project comin'?"

"Huh?" Kurt said distractedly. "I- Oh, yeah. Great. Awesome, really; I think we're gonna be the best couple in the class. Partners, I mean!" he quickly corrected. "Partners. Our- Our project will be the best in the class." He gave a nervous laugh.

Burt pinned him with a knowing look. "And that guy – Blaine – he's pulling his weight? Not makin' you do everything?"

"No, not at all! He's- He's really smart, dad. And cute." The last part slipped out against his will, and his face immediately flushed red.

"Cute, huh?" Burt echoed, laughter in his voice.

"I- um. I meant." Kurt groaned at his father's teasing grin and spun in his heel, heading for the staircase. "I'm going to go do homework now!"

Burt chuckled. _I'll have to make sure their next study date is here. I'd like to meet this lab partner of his…_

…

**There's nothing cuter than nerdy!Klaine. Nothing.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


End file.
